Fate Twister Redux
by SGTLEGENDKILLER
Summary: The Fate Twister Redux. The original story, Fate Twister, is being rewritten to fit better lore and standing in compliance to the 'LORC/FT" universe... The original will stay up where it stands. Enjoy readers. Book 2 of 5 Rated T for language and violence
1. Act I Chapter I: The Beginning

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ  
>Fate Twister<br>(2012 Edition Redux)  
>This story contains mild language<p>

Chapter #1 The Beginning  
>(Lyrics: Animal I've Become ~Three Days Grace)<br>{I can't escape this hell}

Home, I had almost forgotten what it was like; I haven't seen it in almost four years. I'm sure a lot has changed since I joined the Marines in 2012... I remembered the day I stepped in to the recruitment office, that old man behind the desk raised his eyebrow and said,  
>"Boy, I can tell just by looking at you, you've been one of the best to walk through that door in years."<p>

I had always been better than most kids at high school. I was faster, stronger, and I had been noted for my quick, impulsive thinking; having several skills such as being on the top of the football team, as a linebacker, and I could have easily taken any one to the ground in a hurry.

Those were some of my greatest memories, despite my racing mine; I had too much on my mind... I was on my way home; I only had a few things that I was taking back: myself, a uniform, and a semi-automatic SPAS-12 shotgun. Just the thought made me shiver; I'll never forget the Nightmare behind that...

It was about a year ago in Afghanistan, I was riding with a convoy of about 30 vehicles, mostly consisting of Humvee. We were on our way to the airbase about 55 miles from the barracks, escorting some important field Intel, along with three trucks filled with explosives. We were starting to drive through a village, and as the first set of trucks turned onto a road going through a town, an RPG came down from the roof tops.

The rocket, seemingly coming from nowhere, slammed into the back of the front Humvees. The explosion lifted the rear of the vehicle upwards, most likely killing everyone inside to begin with. The Humvee's rear came back down on the hood of the Humvee that following close behind, the collision shifted the bumper of the first into the cab of the second, crushing the Humvee's top like a tin can. I remembered how i had even hit my head against the window as my Humvee slid in the dirt as the driver had put the brake to the floor.

Being first out of the truck, I took only a few seconds to ready myself on the loose soil, I shouldering my FAMAS towards the rooftop rocketeer. I let go a hail of automatic fire, cutting through the weak roof ledge and into the RPG carrier. With a few well-placed shots the attacker fell, his RPG fell from the rooftops as he did. Soon after that, i remember, was a brutal firefight. Once that was over, there were only 15 of the 40 of the men that had traveling with the convoy still alive.

I remembered this kid, fresh out of boot camp, still green. His name was Nicolai Garstrov; His father was Russian, his mother Italian. He had a beautiful wife who was waiting on their due baby. He had only been around for a few weeks, but we got along just swell. I he had a strange, much like himself, saying about luck, and he often said, "find a shotgun shell on the ground and its empty, it is worthless, but if full it could save your life" Because of that, he always had a back pack full of shotgun shells; carrying that as well as his SPAS-12.

He and I had been stuck behind a cement wall; the only real sight either of us had gotten of the fight was to our sides and the occasional risk we took to shoot back. I found myself looking everywhere, for any options that might have saved our asses from that wall. I thought we were in luck; across the street, a staircase lead up to the roof tops. We could provide cover for the rest of the squad to get to safety providing we did manage to get up there. Quickly informing Nick of this plan, he gave a quick 3-2-1 and we bolted across the street, dodging the sand as it was kicked up by impacting AK-47 fire.

However, what happened next was completely unexpected, once it happened i realized we hadn't picked the right time to move; A little down the street there was a Humvee, with a few of our guys using it for cover. It was subsequently hit by an RPG, causing it to blow skywards well as hurtling towards us. We saw this at the same time. I had managed to leap behind a wall, Nick tried but wasn't fast enough. In horror, i watched as one ton of steel landed on my friend. Desperately climbing over the four foot wall, i tried to get to him. He was still alive, but the truck had crushed his legs. He was bleeding fast and was going to die unless I did something quick. In an impulse, i had gone to the front of the truck, completely ignorant of the still present enemy fire, and shot the windows out. Quickly, through the shattered window shards, I reached in and grabbed the radio.

As soon as I had started to talk, my voice was drowned out by Rotary Cannon fire from an attack helicopter. I lowered the radio and watched overhead; five UH-60 Blackhawks and seven AH-64 Apache Longbows, Longbows unloading their armaments into buildings. The Four other Black Hawks dropped ropes, once down, soldiers in black combat suits with the novelty British flag stitched on the arms slid down the twisting ropes. They had sent the SAS too our aid. As one of the Blackhawk was descending to meet us, I raced back to Nick, as my boots slid in the sand as i came to a stop next to him, it was obvious that he was not well; he had only managed to pull off his SPAS-12.

Handing his gun to me, he weakly said. "I don't care what happens to me. This is my gift to you… use it well."

I turned to see the Blackhawk touch down. once it had touched down, i had turned back to turned to tell Nick that he would be okay, but I was stopped by the cold dead eyes of my friend. He didn't have to die; if I could have acted sooner he might still be here today. 

{So many times I've tried} 

Don woke from his dark memories by a friendly slap on the arm. Looking over to his right, Don recognized a familiar face; his long time friend, Mike Brook.

A warm, touching smile spread crossed Mike's face "Wake up Don. It's time to get up and get ready school."

With a blank stare, Don looked over at Mike. "Congratulations Mike, you have unlocked the caretaker achievement; for making sure a 25 year old is ready for a non-existent school on easy mode!"

Don exclaimed with enthusiasm. "I can honestly take care of myself, thanks anyway Oscar"

Don, being smart, gave Mike the finger; this caused Mike to chuckle.

"Well I guess I'm a hotdog now! I understand everything now!" he paused as Don began to laugh "That's what I'm here for I guess." Mike replied smartly as he folded his hands and leaned back against the inner metal of our homeward bound C-17 Globemaster III.

Mike had been Don's best friend since the two had been five. The two had been through a lot together; they had been classmates in school, fellow recruits in boot camp as well as advanced training. Mike had managed to sign up for the Marines a little less than half an hour after Don had. Mike had also managed to somehow squeeze into advanced training with Don; this was due to the fact that Mike was an excellent marksman. Mike had little trouble hitting a bull's-eye at 200 yards without assistance from a scope. Both had excellent aim, although Mike was definitely a range man, whereas Don was more in place and comfortable in close encounters; this mix made a perfect team.

One day they found themselves requested by armed escort, upon complying they were taken with a room. Inside behind a heavy desk sat a man in a black suit; the rooms well placed lighting hid all but his hands. Through his cigar bearing teeth the man told them to sit down, they both did; nervous of what this man wanted with them.

The illusive-esc man turned his head to Don "Don Caster and Michael Brook." he started in a deep, mysterious voice "I've heard about how skilled you two are. You both are both very devoted, hard pressed Marines. Don you excel at hand to hand combat. As a matter of fact you successfully attacked and subdued the staff sergeant on the first day because he singled out your friend here." The man gestured to Mike with pause. "You're amazingly skilled with handguns, assault rifles, and shotguns." The man paused once again "Mike you're probably the best marksman I've ever met. You perfectly placed a shot in the middle of a target a mile away on you first shot with an M82." The man paused as he leaned further back in his chair "I'm going to give you to an offer that the best only get to hear of."

After that, he began to describe a new task force consisting of the British S.A.S, the Army Rangers, Navy Seals, and SOCOM; this task force was secretly known as Project SKYLARK, as Don would learn later. The conversation, being more of a speech, only lasted little more than 45 minutes. Once done, the man leaned forward, finally revealing his firm face in the light.

The man asked one simple thing: "So, you two in?" 

{But I'm still caged inside} 

The long flight home ended after we landed in Papago Army Airfield, Phoenix, Arizona. Once the plane was ready to unload the cargo, Mike and Don gathered their belongings and left the base. As the two exited the gate, during the moments that Don and Mike where signing them self out, Don was handed a small 3"x5" Inch box.

Fumbling slightly with the box, Don opened the package. Inside the package lay a key, attached to the key, a tag labeled "Super Snake". Under the key lay a note. Don unfolded the note with care and read the fairly legible black ink: "Dear son, the loan came through on the Shelby. She's all yours. ~John Caster. P.S. Drive responsibly that's a 65,000 dollar car."

Don, at that point, told Mike to stay put and left his Friend as he walked up the street to the local parking garage. Don approached the Garage office and asked the guard if there were any cars stored for the name 'Don Caster'. The guard turned to his computer, and then he proceeded to type on his early 2000s era keyboard. Once done, the guard then turned back to Don.

Leaning out the window, the guard asked "Now how do a kid like you get a car like that?" the question caused a smile to beam a crossed Don's face.

"Serving for the country" Don answered simply as he handed the guard his keys.

Only having to wait a few minutes; Don stepped to the side as the garage doors started opening. Once opened, a black 2007 Shelby GT500KR rolled slowly out. Once the car was stopped, the man delivering the car exited the vehicle as left Don with his new vehicle. Before the deliverer left, Don thanked him with a tip, after that he opened the Mustang's trunk and slid his bags in. Closing the truck with a soft sigh, Don walked around the left side of the elegant car.

He stopped not much but a few feet away, examining the modern muscle car. Don stood in place for quite some time, admiring the shiny metallic paint chips that glittered in the dim light of a midday shadow. His eyes traced along the path on which the single orange racing stripe that ran down the middle of the car. His childlike eyes glimmered as he ran his fingers down the factory clean tire wall.

This car was Don's dream car; he had loved this car even before they were sold publicly. Even with the car being 8 years old already, and even with the new sleek cars of 2015; this car was born a legend and would not fail to be seen.

With a sigh of childish joy, Don gently opened the door and carefully slid himself onto the soft leather seat. He remained silent, frozen in his seat for several moments; looking over the beautiful crafted leatherwork of the dashboard. Finally, after even more moments, he tenderly grasped the steering wheel. A tear formed in the pit of his eyes in realization of his dreams becoming reality.

Once again in a gentle motion, after his moments of silence, Don inserted the key into the ignition; with a soft turn of the key, the car shook with a roar as the powerful engine sparked to life. The sound of the 600 horse power engine became quiet soon after, becoming nothing more than a soft purr. He, after yet another short moment to pause, slid the car into gear and let the car roll forward slowly out onto the road.

Don drove back to the airbase, slowly breaking to a halt somewhere near the entrance. Mike, being as he usually was: comfortable, was leaning against the cement walls of the base nearby. Mike looked up, his head bobbing to a tune burrowed into his head, and looked quizzically at the car Mike wondered who the owner. Due to the Mustang's tinted windows, Mike had not a clue that it was it was Don sitting inside the American built speed machine. He slowly got out with a wide smile, surprising Mike to the point of an opened mouth stupor. Mike did little to look from the car as Don already put his just stared at the Mustang as Don was placing his bags into the trunk.

"Are you going to get in or stand there drooling on yourself?" Don asked with a chuckle, interrupting Mike's slowed thought process, as he shut the trunk.

"My momma always said 'you came tell a lot about someone by looking at their car'" Mike stated, quickly glancing at Don, doing his best Forrest Gump impersonation.

"I must be pretty damn amazing then" Don chuckled as he got back into the driver seat.

Being the naturally uplifted guy he was, Mike practically slid himself into the passenger seat without waiting for the door to open.  
>"Cool story, bro" Mike commented wittingly.<p>

With a slight chuckle, Don pressed down the gas pedal. With a short squeal of the tires, the horses hit home and accelerated the car down the road on the two's last steps home.

Later that night, the duo had been on the road for seven hours; the time being an even 9:30PM. They were headed for Imlay, Nevada, their home. Being this late, the surrounding environment was dark except for the tiny sliver of red sky in front of them. So far the drive had been somewhat quiet the only sounds being the speakers of the Mustang gently seething soft percussion of Don's Three Days Grace album.

"Hey, there's no one out here. You should see how fast she goes!" Mike demanded, breaking the silence

"No!" Don answered without any signs of hesitation.

Mike held to his request persistently, begging for a good five minutes. He restated his request over and over, using peer pressure to get into Don's head. Don hesitated first, not wanting to risk his new pride, but after four minutes of his friend's begging, he began to like the idea too.

"Alright, Mike… I'll open her up a little bit" Don said finally to please both his lust for carelessness and his friend's begs.

"Yes! Hell yeah!" Mike yelled greatly excited. Don pushed the pedal all the way to the floor, the Mustangs engine roared, pleased at its drivers command.

Even going 75 mph wasn't enough to keep the heated tires from spinning. The spinning caused the backend slid to the right as the rotating rubber slicks strained to grip pavement. Once the Mustang, after several seconds of a seemingly floating fight for grip, reached the speed of 100mph; the vehicle smoothed out as the tires got finally gripped the blacktop.

A few seconds later the mustang was easily gaining speed passed 150mph; the two were laughing and yelling in happiness, although Don tried his best not to.

{Somebody get me through this nightmare}

The car suddenly jerked to the left, Don cursed as he griped the wheel tighter and attempted to keep the car under control. The two were not laughing any longer; in fact they were nervous at what had happened as the mustang drifted back to the center of the road.

"Don, what the hell is that?" Mike shouted as he pointed to the hood of the car. A yellow haze smoked from the front of the car, illuminating the hood as it thickened.

"What the fu-" Don started, unable to finish due to shock. He watched as the metal of the hood seemed to stretch forward, elongating the front of the car. It stopped stretching and the hairs on his arms stood as he watched the car ripple like water that has been disturbed by a thrown rock.

The loud sound of an electrical crack rang out; the car plunged from the road into a perfect dark void. Don couldn't see anything; not his friend next to him or his hands upon the steering wheel. He cringed as a massive chill ran through his body. Soon he was unable to hear sounds, he realized as the chill quickly started to turn to pain. His mouth opened and he screamed silently as his body felt as if it was burning inside out.

His pains died quickly and almost immediately as he drew a panting breath there was another loud crack. The car became illuminated, yellow in tint, and the sound of the engine returned, screaming with no end. Don squinted as a bright white flash flared in front of the car. The flash receded to the size of a tiny point, yet still somehow blinding.

The Mustang jolted forward, the speedometer quickly maxed out at its 160mph limit; Don was shoved back into his seat. The car was rocketing towards, or after, he did not know, the light. Mike had begun to scream, the G-force was too great for either to look at each other even if they did try. Within seconds the dot had grew to the size of the sun, blinding the two once again.

The Mustang plunged strait into the thick layer of light; they were forced to close their eyes due to the intense luminosity. Soon the car was jerked again, but this time, it was from collision of floor. Don opened his eyes to a blur and the squeal of tires. Blindingly he griped the steering wheel and tried his best to control his car. His attempts proofed fruitless as the rear of his car began to slide around.

Time seemed to slow down for Don; his blurred vision wasn't getting any clearer. His head smacked into the window suddenly, this blurred him even more; black grew surrounding his view. The Mustang's rear quarter had collided with something solid; causing the car to swing the other way and scrape itself into a tumbling roll. The vehicle continuing to roll for several long moments; the sounds of metal crushing and denting loudly sparked near Don's ears. His vision continued to blacken in the confusing situation.

Though the Mustang rolled, Don could tell it was almost over; realizing that the rolls where becoming less frequent. The vehicle stopped on its roof, surprisingly the roof itself wasn't crushed. He grasped in vain for the door handle desperately; for some reason he had trouble finding it, as if it had moved. After several failed attempts he did manage to find it,

Upon opening the door, Don slipped out of the Mustang painfully. The floor was hard and solid, which was good; with a groan Don tried to lift himself from the floor. He did manage to stand, only to immediately fall to his face after less than four seconds of standing. A painful gasp escaped his mouth as his consciousness began to slip.

The last thing Don heard was several footsteps that drew closer, and a nervous sounding male voice:

"D-does anyone know what the hell that thing is?"


	2. Act I Chapter II: The Awakening

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ

Fate Twister 2012 Redux

Chapter 2: the Awakening

{Continuing Lyrics from Animal I Have Become~ Three Days Grace}

{I can't control myself}

Don had never enjoyed being unconscious; not long before years ago as a recruit and most defiantly not now. Strangely Don had always seemed to have been plagued by memories whenever it had happened. True it was not a common thing, but this instant was right along the time that he hit his head falling from a lifting Blackhawk, receiving a concussion aswell.

After Don had lost consciences, like many times before, began to view his past experiences; memories from his childhood, pleasant first only to slowly turn to nightmares; to horrible things had have done, all the people he had killed. The most visual, the one that stuck out the most to him, had just begun in his head:

It was the late fall of 2011, Afghanistan; His team, consisting of him, Mike, and another Operative named Matt Tucket; or simply known by code name as tuck, were assigned a private mission. Project SKYLARK's main operation was to search out, track, and assassinate terrorist leaders and 'higher-ups'; SKYLARK was in charge of several different opportunities, such the assassination of Osama Bin Laden in early May of 2011. Their objective at the time was to stop a man who was responsible for numerous massive terrorist bombings, one which happened mid-July in Johannesburg while the British Prime minister was staying there on a poverty relief trip.

The Duo had taken care of an already staggering 57 alleged members of this Al Qaeda loyalist group. After several violent interrogations they were given a lead to the ring leader. They had tracked the target for two weeks; learning his schedule and personal life to determine the best time to act. The ideal opportunity, a 10 minute time span on a Sunday, was plotted and the teams planned and prepared for the operation.

Sare Pol, northern Afghanistan

September 25th, 2011

1126 hrs(11:26 AM)

We were eventually hinted toward a definitive leader. My team had followed this guy for two weeks. Learning his schedule, plotting when the best time to act would be. We found an opportunity, a 10 minute time lapse. It took but a few hours to plan our strategy or entry. We would be accompanied by another SKYLARK team; going in as "tourists". We would get in position but a few blocks from the target's location and wait for command for the go. In case things went bad, there lay half a mile away an Army Ranger ready 98 Bravo scoped in to the target's facility.

I stood from my seat in the back of my assigned civilian vehicle, a Land Rover Sport, after parking in in a back alley behind a café. I stepped out of the SUV; my black leather boot swirled up dust as it stomped down onto the sandy alley. Not wasting anytime I hurried to the rear of the Patriot and retrieved my back pack from its trunk. I opened the backpack and went quickly through my sorted belongings. Camera and its tripod, and a black case which fit nicely in the back bag; I took the camera and its holster and wrapped it around my right thigh. I gave the strap a tug and made sure it was snug around my faded blue jeans.

I shut the rear bay door of the Patriot and put the backpack on as I began to walk between the sandstone tile buildings onto the street. Once there I walked a few meters to near a fruit stand. I turned and squinted due to the sun; I was searching for the others. It took nearly a minute to find them.

People watching is something that I had always found fun; across the street was a young man arguing on his cell phone, from down the street an old dusty motorcycle rolled slowly to a stop about 15 meters from where I was; As much as these 'random' spotting were the two were familiar. The man on the motorcycle was our third man, Mathew Tucket; otherwise known by code as "Tuck"; whereas the man on the phone was Mike himself.

I turned once again and put my cap on backwards slowly over my short black hair; as if on cue, my cell phone rang. I answered it quickly "Hi mom" I answered as I looked up at a tiny single cloud above.

"Bull, this is 'mom' it's time, honey." My 'mother' being Command

"Yeah mom, I tucked it in there. It's in the case yeah." As I said his name in context, Tuck left his motorcycle and went slowly into the café nearby. "Yeah really, I packed it in there, right next to the SD card, mom." I stepped into a standing glass phone booth near the café and took the camera from the case on my side and raised it up to the glass. As I did, I pulled the SD card from the camera and slipped it into the upper corner of the booth. I glanced through the dirty stained glass monetarily to ensure the coast was clear.

I put the camera back in its case and stepped out of the booth; quickly I looked back at Mike. "Damn it! I just had 5 bars!" He shouted loudly, loud enough I could hear him over the com on which he spoke over as well.

This was the initial command; I quickly made my way over to the other side of the street near him. Walked into the alley way with him and shut the fence behind me.

"Bull to teams, Operation Jackknife is enacted. All teams move in" I ordered as I set my back pack down

From my back pack I unclipped the black case that snuggly sit against the back of the bag; inside sit within foam padding a disassembled H&K G36. The first and main part, the Receiver and folded stock, was taken out first. The next part, the fore-grip, was taken and slid onto the front of the receiver where it belongs until it clicked; locked in place. Thirdly, the barrel is slid into the opening of the for-grip and screwed into place. Lastly I flipped my rear sight up and screwed the silencer to the end of the barrel to finally unfold the stock.

After I was finished assembling my G36 in a dainty 15 seconds, I put the back pack back on and pressed myself against the sandstone wall. I exchanged a look behind me at Mike, who was just turning the safety off on his F3000 Multi-Utility Weapons Platform.

"Gun ready" Mike announced softly as he brushed his brown hair from his eye.

"Up the stairs, Mike" I leaned forwards a little, taking my left hand from the G36 fore-grip to a nearby door handle.

Softly opening the door, I entered slowly G36 forward in my hunched form; Mike followed closely behind. Quickly seeing as there was no one in the building we quickly moved fluently towards the staircase through the dusty rays of sunlight that pass through holes in the canvas covering the front windows.

From the stairs we moved out onto a dark balcony; hidden from street view by the shade cast by the lip of the roof above. We climbed up onto the roof by a ladder which rest at the end of the balcony.

"See anyone, Mike?" I asked him as I sat against the roof wall.

"Two guys across the street" he pointed out as he used his knife as a mirror over the edge.

"You hear that Tuck?"

"Yes sir, gimme a minute" I waited about 10 seconds, then looked over the wall to see Tuck, face covered by bandana, setting down one of the watch guards with wire around their neck.

"You want fries with that?"

"Nice, Tuck. Alright, everyone listens up" I started over the com "We are ordered to shoot to kill, whoever sees this bastard, take him out. Wait on my word." I paused "Tuck makes a distraction."

"With pleasure" he replied delightedly.

I watched as Tuck flipped a switch remotely; his bike's, which sat calm for a brief moment, exploded into a fiery ball of flame; it had been strapped with 2lbs of C4 explosive. All around the vicinity of the detonated shrapnel remains of the motorcycle sand and wood alike rest enflamed.

"Alight, everyone move!" I nearly shouted over the com.

I jumped up from where I sat and we sprinted across the roof, sprinting and jumping over the occasional air conditioner unit. We covered a lot of ground quickly, the several block run proved to only take around half a minute. Quickly we came up on a large alley way, which was fit for a truck to pass through, even that didn't slow us down.

I rolled back up to my feet from the jump a crossed the opening between rooftops, without a moment of break, I transitioned myself to the wall facing the direction we heading, placing my back against the wall softly.

"Bull, this is command. The target is within the next building beyond the one you are on now."

"Acknowledged" I responded quickly as I retrieved the camera from my hip pouch.

With the flip of the power switch, and setting the flash timer to five seconds, I pushed the camera screen face against the wall until I felt it clamp its weight to the wall. I stepped a few feet from the camera and waited. The camera beeped loudly then immediately exploded in a flash, forcing a now large opening in the wall, left by the controlled, disguised explosive.

The duo quickly raised their weapons and stalked silently into the opening; inside housed several dazed insurgent members. They were quickly and lethally subdued with several soft silent coughs of the duo's silenced weapons.

Moving more quickly, the two tore through several rooms, using little ammunition to leave the past rooms void of life. They drew closer to where they needed to reach. i turned a white painted wall to catch quickly the sight of two insurgent members at the end of a hallway guarding a door. The two didn't have the chance to even put their fingers on the triggers of the AK47s they held.

"Right through the door Bull. I got your back, go!" Mike stayed close to Don's backside as they hurried to the door.

As I approached the door, I stopped momentarily; shifted my weight and brought my foot up into the door, violently slamming the door inward. Hidden behind the old blue door sat a desk with several men of Middle Eastern ethnicity; their gazes shot up to the door from their paperwork planning as the door broke from its hinging. With a quick glance, I spotted the target; he was of average height and standing on the other side of the table slightly to the left.

My gun was already raised and simply I place several rounds into the small crowd of men, several fell as they moved in a mix of from the table and in front of the leader in vain to protect him. The target, after his meat shields had all fallen quickly, was met with a feral pack of bullets to his upper chest area; he fell back in front of a small spurt of blood, for his neck had been left with a hole directly in front of his left jugular on the base of his neck.

We finally slowed momentarily; we checked the bodies to find we had just taken out the entire terrorist group's leadership within a few seconds. I stood from the leader's warm corpse and looked at Mike.

"Command, this is Bull, mission success, evac about to begin to be-" I was cutoff as Mike shouted from the door; he raised his gun in my direction.

Something hit my side, the force was enough to shove me off my feet; I fell forward and found my face to be met with the hard wooden desk. Quickly I clutched my face with a groan until I peered swiftly through my fingers to see a white clothed person fiving down at me with a blade. I moved my head only an inch to my left as the knifed slammed into the wood just a centimeter from my cheek.

The young man who was attacking me, I recognized as the target's son, pulled the knife from the wood and pushed from me to raise his arm once again. He plunged the knife at my face, I grabbed his descending wrist and managed to stop the knife inches from my forehead; his rage proved difficult for me to push him off with one arm, resulting in a grapple for my life.

I managed to bring my foot up and push him off of me, this sent him to his rear a few feet passed my feet and being as determined as he was, and he quickly recovered. I quickly struggled with my Colt 1911 as he positioned himself to strike again. He lunged forward once again as I drew my sidearm. In a moment of flight, I shoved the 6" barrel forward directly at his face and pulled the trigger.


	3. Act I Chapter III: Animal I've Become

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ

Fate Twister 2012 Redux

**Act 1 Chapter 3: Animal I've Become**

Don's eyes flashed open in midst of rushed heavy panting. Quickly he sat up and stared at the floor through pained eyes. Strangely to him his vision was blurred and sitting up felt a bit awkward. It made sense to him due to his nightmares plaguing his dreams, this had happened before, but this time seemed different somehow.

Don's vision was barely beginning to clear and without thought he began to rub his eyes. It helped his vision with little effect, but even as he could not see to greatly, he noticed something strange: his face felt different in a way. He could not describe it at that time, but he had assumed that his face was simply swollen; he soon however would find his assumption incorrect.

As he took his blurred hands from his face he witnessed as his eyes slowly began to focus his hands were different, very different; he saw as he held them as dark forms against the light source above him. He mentally counted his fingers, from thumb to pinky order; _Thumb, index, middle… thumb? _ His eyes opened widely in fear of the unknown, of what had happened to him. Panting heavily Don sat up as quickly as he could and examined himself. Don's eyes shot down to his feet, which to his astonishment had changed dramatically; for now in their place were toe large toed hooves. From there his eyes frantically raced up his now ever so different legs; they were similar to normal legs but instead had three sections separated by two knees on each leg. Both his lower leg and ankle region were covered by a black metallic armor, as was his top section of leg. Over his skin lay taught around him was a layer of nylon covering; it was what most would think as a body suit. Over his upper torso and chest area were covered by the same metallic armor that was covering his legs; on the chest covering there were several light's, some of which looked as if to be made for a finger to press over them, embedded in the thick armor. Quickly don put his hands on his neck and soon to his face. Though there was nothing for him to reflex his new self he still could feel that his face, like everything else, was very different. His facial structure was different all in itself; there was no longer a specific nose, though there were holes located not much but an inch in front of where his eyes were placed on his enlarged forehead; this was not the most prominent difference, that little award would be held by his new mouth. In place now of his mouth were four mandibles, two hang on each side just under his cheeks; sharp refined teeth lined the inward bent tips of the mandibles. With each panicked inhale the mandibles would flex inward instinctively. Resting just over his eyes and brow lay steel like helmet which he could feel run backwards to cover his entire head and then some.

Don looked around in a frenzy, the process was not as elegant as one would hope due to his neck being somewhat elongated in proportion. He found himself in what appeared to be a holding cell, sitting on the floor next to a single cot. He noticed on the other side of the grey 15x10 metallic box in which he sat in that there was a single sink. The only other thing in the cell was the bared door, and a black cylindrical window on the back wall. Even as his eyes told him as much as they could, which was only where he was and his changes, but his mind raced with panicked questions; _why am i here? What and why has this happened? Where is mike? _And so forth.

Even in his seemingly minute long moment of shock, Don attempted to stand as he tried to call out to Mike strangely with his new mouth parts. He was very unsuccessful at standing up, he was only able to bring himself to his knees and get closer to the bars. Outside of the bared door stood a guard; he was young, most likely around the age of 20, he wore a general cameo military pants and a black light olive uniform. The guard held a weapon that don could not name at the moment; the guard however was looking at Don nervously, finger on the trigger and the gun's barrel pointed just above the ground in an unsure and precautious manner. Don head was rushing still, as would anyone's in the situation, he knew that he was in a cell and that he was defiantly not liking or comfortable in this situation; he wanted out at all cost. Don struggled desperately to stay upright as he crawled, as most would put it, to the bars.

"Stop!" the guard shouted as he raised his strange steel weapon at Don.

Don, now unable to stay upright, fell onto to his back in vain; he laid there nearly unable to move, he wished to keep fighting, to keep trying to get out, to escape this new prison. His mind had begun to race fuller and had exceeded his questions of where and why, but onto attempting to remember what had happened last. He remembered driving, a flash, and then rolling. He also remembered pulling himself from his car only to fall on his face. The last thing he could remember was hearing someone just before slipping into the void of darkness and dreams. _What the hell is that thing?_

The words played again and again in his head, so much so that he closed his eye to try to escape the words as a politician evades the truth. He placed his hands over his face and gave a sorrowful groan. This was real, he realized fully now, after long moments of fighting the faint possibilities of the situation being a dream. He tried his hardest to become calm which proved impossible at the time.

Unable to move much, Don had decided to continue to remain on the floor; he had now curled instinctively into a fetal like position. He had stared at the wall where it met the floor for several hours. Those were several hours of cluttered thinking, which had gotten him very little further than when he had woken. He had at this time figured that 'it', whatever one would call his change, would have happened either during, or just after the flash. He did remember the very horrid feelings he experienced right after the flash happened and he 'seemed' to fall into the silent, perfect dark. But no matter how much he tried, he could not shake or calm the feeling of how different he was, and the feeling of being alone in this situation; though he wished not to admit. Even strongly, though this was all different, he found what he was a bit recognizable, though he could not put his finger on it at the time.

After several more silent hours Don had managed to lift himself onto the cot, the process proved difficult due to the setup of his 'new' legs. Quietly he stared at the cold grey metal floor passed his feet. For the next ten or so hours he would begin to try to continue to fathom the situation, he had finally began to become somewhat calm; if calm could count as he had leveled his breathing below a panting level. Of all the things which bothered him the fact that he didn't know where Mike was bothered him the greatest.

Soon Don reached the point of gaining no knew thoughts or guesses on the situation which left him nearly nothing to do but to worry and play with his new body. Don for the first time in a while grew a soft smile as he began to move his new secondary thumbs, hence the irony of him "playing with himself" crossing his mind. Despite the humor Don's grin quickly faded with a deep exhale and though his new thumb interested him, he knew not the difference from it to the other; the only difference being it was on the opposite side as his original thumb. Don's thoughts were interrupted as the cell door creaked open slowly. Don's head snapped up to see two men, both in their strange armor uniform, entering the cell; one carried a shotgun and the other held tray.

Don stood slowly and struggled to stand, it was, as the only as Don would describe, like standing on stilts with snapped legs. In response to Don's somewhat sudden movement the man with the weapon leveled it up at Don while the other took a step back.

"Sit down!" The armed man shouted, cocking the pump under the barrel as he widened his stance. Not wanting any confrontation with the men, Don clumsily fell back onto the cot, hitting the back of his head on the wall in the progress.

"What an idiot!" The other man jeered as Don rubbed the back of his neck under the shadow of his helmet. "Of all things the alien is stupid!" The tray holding man continued.

"Yeah, go figure. Let's hope it is smart enough to feed its fat face." The other laughed as they set the tray on the cold floor and left.

As the one with the shotgun returned to his post in guarding the cell the Don was in Don stood clumsily and slowly stumbled over to the bars. Don picked up the tray from the floor and sat back on the cell's cot. Don looked over the food and he didn't seem pleased; a Ham sandwich and a glass of water. Though it wasn't much Don would not complain, he was hungry. Don toke the sandwich and tried to nibble on it, this proved difficult due to not being nearly proficient with his new mouth in any means. After many failed attempts of 'noms' and chomps he decided to try simply to tear pieces off by hand and eat them. Still it was awkward, but it was successful none the less. After the sandwich the glass of water was useless no matter how carefully he tried, the water only ended up all over him. In an exasperated sigh Don slowly returned to the bed.

For several hours he continued to rationalize and contemplate on the situation. Like before he struggled and began to accept, yet once again, that he was getting nowhere with just thinking. He grew tired from the thinking eventually, his head now lay in the palm of his left palm as he rested his cheek against his fingers. His eye lids felt heavy and struggled to stay open; it would have been the first time he would have slept since wakening. He had figured he had been awake for nearly 26 hours, and considering that fact Don slowly allowed himself to sleep.

His sleep was vague and plagued with nightmares and at the same time short lived. He woke quickly, snapping his head up at the sound of a large door being opened; the sound of steam rushing from a heavy security door broke the quiet cells and guard post nearby. Don looked over at the man with the shotgun who was still the same man who was guarding him; the one who insulted Don's intelligence not long before. Don couldn't see the door from his bed, most likely not even his cell either, but he could hear a lot of loud talking and barking of orders.

"Move!" a man shouted, his command was followed by the sound of a shotgun being cocked. The man who had been watching over Don's cell turned to the opening door, his shotgun was raised halfway, ready to snap up to fire.

The cell next to Don's opened; Don watched from the small 1x2 foot bared opening in which the two cells shared. Forced with a shove in stumbled something that Don would recognize only from fiction, something from his past. Don's mind corroded into mass of confusion; he quietly stared in disbelief at the figure walking into the next cell, he recognized it from an old video game; Halo. It was an Elite, more politically correct, if Don's memory could remember, _Macto cognatus_… a Sangheili.

That was what it was, he realized; it was real and there was no doubt about it. As the Sangheili who entered the next cell sat in a seemingly sad manner Don lowered his head from the opening and covered his face. Rubbing his eyes his mind began to race once again; soon he took his hands from his face slowly and looked onto his hands. As his eyes looked over his palms; each with a pair of their own abductor pollicis brevises and dual thumbs for each hand. Tightly he clenched his fists in a horrible connection of realization; he was now a Sangheili, though it was a harsh thing to conclude, with would be one of the first conclusions he had managed to reach since waking. Unfortunate for him, the conclusion made all but more questions. Don rubbed his face which he hung down towards the floor.

"Hey you look here up here" A deep voice came from behind, through the bared opening; strangely the voice sounded somehow familiar, it sounded faintly like Mike.

Don looked back up slowly towards the shared opening to see the Sangheili staring at him from the other cell. For a moment Don stared back into the Sangheili's hazel colored eyes, looking deeply into his slit-like pupils.

"Do you know where we are? Do you speak English?" The Sangheili asked him after a few moments of uneasy and uncertain silence; Don could easily hear the resemblance of his best friend held within the slightly deeper-than-humanly-average voice.

"M-…Mike?" Don asked slowly; the fluttering of his mandibles was foreign to him, other than a little bit of practice; it was very difficult to form the 'k' in the name.

The Sangheili's eyes grew "Don?" He asked; the question was followed by yet another moment of uneasy silence.

"Yes…" Don answered, slowly ending the elongated "S" at the end.

The Sangheili, clearly being Mike, looked down towards the floor as if to be extremely bothered by this reunion. "You too… I'm sorry" Mike told Don softly.

"It is… not your fault" Don tried to explain.

"Listen, I don't expect you to be able to speak, you hit your head pretty hard. You'll probably be slow for a while, but we need to get out of here" Mike pointed out quietly as he glanced at the door. "They won't tell me anything, they refuse to talk to me, I wouldn't think you had much either."

"Hey! Break it up your two; away from the window!" The man with the shotgun guarding the door shouted at them.

Mike slowly sulked away from the window and sat on the cot in his cell and watched through the window in case to catch a glance of Don. Don stared back at the floor, searching for more answers. _It had happened to him too_ Don thought as he closed his eyes. This was defiantly a bizarre turn of events.


	4. Act I Chapter IV: Jail Break

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ

Fate Twister 2012 Redux

**Act 1 Chapter 4: Jail Break**

Don stood quietly near the window as he stared out into the shattered white void of slip-space; streaks of bright colors rushed past the window. It had been a few days since the guards had moved Mike into the next cell over and that time was spent with science and painful contemplation. Thinking seemed to further progress an idea of happening and reason very little even with the new shed light of identification of what Mike and he had become.

The only true big thought that became apparent to both him and his friend; was this most certainly was not a dream, though at times it felt like one, but they were uncertain that it was truly reality at the same time. The thought of an alternative reality came to mind, this was thought by Don to be the most likely, but no option or method was considered impossible; for what happened to them already would have been thought impossible. The other idea that came to mind was that they had been pulled, or rather sucked, into a videogame. This was probably the most 'cheesy' of all of the thoughts and ideas; it made Don chuckle even with the thought due to the irony of the fact that, in high levels of similarities, he hated Tron.

"Don" Mike called quietly from the barred opening. Don looked over as he took his four fingered hand from the wall. "The guard is in the bathroom, come here. What are we going to do? Think of anything yet?" Mike asked as Don approached the opening.

"Nope…" He quietly replied

"I guess we wait further"

"We can't do much from inside the cell."

"Maybe we could irritate the guard? Maybe he would open the door to take me somewhere else? I could de-arm him if he did" Mike proposed, his eyes darted around feverishly from a mix of weariness and of hope.

"He has a shotgun, I don't know. We would need a distraction, just keep quiet though." Don became quiet and sat down as the guard came back to his post.

For a few minutes there was silence, like before, the air lay dull and uneventful. A console near the guard flashed a dim red color, Don noticed out of the corner of his eye, and a message appeared on screen. The guard set his gun onto a small table and a pair of curved bars rotated out of the wall. The guard pulled the bars down over his shoulders and held them; they seemed to be a clamping device. For what Don could not think of, however just as he began to try to figure the whole cell block jerked sharply, if his boots had not been planted onto the metal floor he would have fallen from the bed.

"Welcome to the Epsilon System, we are now approaching Harvest; all Marine teams report to Pelican bays for mobilization." An aged male voice ordered through overhead PA speaker as the guard pushed the bars back into the wall and retrieved his shotgun.

Don stood and looked around quickly, wondering what had just happened. He had noticed through the bared opening that Mike had unfortunately fallen from his cell's cot and now groaned loudly as he stood slowly.

"What the hell was that?!" Mike loudly asked as he approached the cell's door.

"Nothing to worry about so be quiet!" The guard answered back, his voice tainted with hostility.

"Be quiet? We have to hardly spoke for days!" Mike pointed out to the guard.

"I told you to be quiet!" the guard shouted as he drew his firearm.

"Oh I think you should give us something to talk about, maybe get some tea with that. We'll have some nice story time." Mike replied with a grin in a smart-ass manner that he had perfected.

"Why you son of-" The guard was cut off by the PA speaker, which belched out a loud ring of static.

"Your destruction is the will of the gods…" A raspy voice spoke through the PA speaker "and we are their instruments!" The voice finished as another belch of static seeped from the speaker after he finished. The Guard looked up as he lowered his firearm at the speaker, clearly unsure of how to react to that occurrence. The static stopped abruptly, almost violently enough to hurt the ears.

"Incoming fire; Gunnery teams man your stations! Firing MA-" a now younger male nearly screamed in panic over the speaker. He was cut off as the cell block shook once again, only this time harder. This time was different; Don knew this by experience, this time it was of an explosion.

The entire room shook violently for a second time. The Guard fell over onto Don's cell door sue to a sudden loss of balance. The door clanged as the Guard's metallic helmet slammed into the bars, knocking him unconscious in the process;his firearm fell with a clang to the floor just outside the cell door.

Seeing the craziness of the situation and a very obvious distraction; Don noticed an opportunity to escape; the Guard's firearm was just outside the bars. As quick as he could without falling from the shaking, Don stumbled towards the door. As he got to it he nearly laid flat on the floor in attempts to get into the best position to reach the weapon.

The weapon couldn't have been any farther than two feet from the bars and the distance would prove difficult due to the thickness of his arm. They were just a bit too big to fit in the four or five inches of space between the bars. Don instinctively growled in distaste; his fingertips were just centimeters from the shoulder pad on the stock, the closest part of the weapon. Unwilling to give up, Don forced his arm painfully further through the bars. His eyes closed and his mandibles flexed outward in his struggle to grip the weapon. He finally, after a moment of attempts, managed to slide it closer with is index finger. Once the weapon was closer and in his grasp he quickly pulled it through and sighed with relief. It was a quick sigh at that; they were not out of danger yet.

Don stood and gripped the weapon tightly with both hands. It felt weird to him; the weapon was human, but it was small for the size of his hands. It, to him, felt like holding a Sub Machine Gun when the weapon was supposed to be a full sized fire arm; like what an MP7 is to an M16. Don looked down for a moment to make sure that his hands were where they needed to be and to see how the weapon operated.

Quickly he pumped the sliding hand grip back and forth, placing a shell into the chamber, and he pressed himself on the opposing side of the cell door with the locking mechanism. He was ready, with his left shoulder against the bars, in a similar position as a serviceman would be in while breaching a door. He raised the barrel up to the locking mechanism and held it closer to it; the barrel was still pointed in a downward angle for the best effect. Don pulled the trigger and in a loud explosive clap the shotgun gave a hard kickback in recoil as the buckshot left the barrel and sank into the bending metal which lay no match for the shot, leaving a nice inward impression as the pellets bent the steel inward to the point of breaking. He pulled the smoking barrel away from the heavy steel door swiftly and with a quick inspection he assumed that due to the hole left in the lock there was nothing left holding the door open.

Don shoved his left shoulder into the door, breaking the small bent fragment of metal which still held the door closed. He brought the stock up into his shoulder as the door slammed to a stop against the cell bars. He quickly swept the firearm around to ensure there was no one else to put up defensive measures against him.

"Hurry up Don, before someone else comes!" Mike shouted from the bars of his cell.

Don made no hesitation to, after a frantic failed attempt with a digital interface, shoot out Mike's cell locking mechanism as well. Once free, Mike knelt by the unconscious guard and took the guard's side arm from a stiff case holster. The grey handgun was of similar color as the shotgun that Don held, and instead of having a finger guard over the trigger it had an entire hand guard. Mike had also managed to grab a few encased magazines for the handgun from the guard's pockets

"Where do we go now?" Mike asked quietly standing next to Don, his finger on the handgun's trigger.

Don shouldered the shotgun once again and crept for the metal door, on the other side of the door screams and shouting could be heard. Cautiously he opened the door with his left arm, keeping the other hand to hold the shotgun at ready in case of need. There was a moment where he backed into the doorway as a group of five or so armed soldiers ran passed the doorway. After they passed Don waited a moment before exiting the cell block into the long grey metal hallway. There was a short pause as he covered one way, looking down the illuminated fiber iron sights of the weapon, and Mike holding the handgun out with a both arms forward down the other direction. Don nudged Mike's shoulder with his elbow, ensuring that the hall was clear.

From there the duo quickly moved down the hall; at the end Don dropped to his knee, which felt a bit awkward for moment to him, and propped the firearm against the corner which he hid behind. Mike stood crouched behind him holding the handgun downward near Don's shoulder. Mike popped his head around the corner briefly only to return to his previous position.

"It's another hallway… it looks like there are guards at the other end…umm maybe all but a 50 yard sprint?" Mike spoke quietly then popped his head around quicker than before to recheck. "Yep, two guards and make that 60 yards. Just tell me when you're ready." Mike lowered himself more, preparing his legs for the run.

Just as Don was going to swing the barrel around, the ship shook once again, the explosion could be heard not far off behind them. A blast of heat rushed past the two, causing Don to peer backwards to see a growing orange fireball growing down the hall; the explosion was traveling towards them. Mike noticed this as well, his eyes grew in a shock of panic.

"Run!" Mike screamed at the top of his lungs as he pulled on Don's shoulder as he swiftly pushed off from the corner.

The two guards at the end where still recovering from the shaking as Mike and Don had begun to sprint as well as they could down the hall. The one on the left of the door on the end of the hall had recovered from the shaking noticed them sprinting down the hallway right for him and he fellow guard. The guard raised his firearm and was about to fire until he watched thetunnel of fire slam into the opposite corner from which the two had come and followed quickly behind them. Upon seeing that, the guard lowered his gun and ran in through the door, leaving his younger counterpart in the hall. The younger guard, who now had recovered, stood frozen in fear as he watched the explosion follow the hallway towards him. Don passed the frozen guard and as the orange reflection of the explosion grew quickly in the guard's wide eyes, Mike tackled him through the door.

Mike landed heavy on the small guard; Mike tried his best not to crush him with his weigh as he rolled into the room. Don stomped quickly to a stop; he struggled with balance of his slowing weight as he turned back to the door. As fast as he could Don pushed his hands against the metal door to close it. The door drew to near closing but then kicked back hard as the propulsion of the escaping explosion rushed out the enlarging opening; the door went back and almost smacked Don in the face. To compensate Don dug his shoulder into the door; this seemed to do little. With a strained grunt, Don lowered his large body closer to the floor to increase his push onto now still. Don's mandibles flexed in stress as he tried to close the door further, his hooves struggled to grip the floor beneath him.

His hooves managed to prop against the wall nearby, making it possible to put more strength beyond his current strength to the door. With shaky legs and as he lowered closer to the floor, making him almost parallel to the floor, Don let loose a panicked growl. Slowly the door began to close, increasingly it was harder to shut with progress, causing Don's growl to become a near despairing yell. Thanks to Don's quick action, he had bought enough time for Mike to help him. Soon the door was closed; Don lay on the floor for many seconds panting.

Once recovered Don stood and prepared for when lay ahead. He realized that, for all it was worth, they had only traversed one hall. Don retrieved the shotgun and turned back to Mike who was setting the young guard against the wall since he had passed out from something. Whether Mike's tackle or the near death, they did not know or care; they had more important matters at hand.

Don raised the shotgun, resting it against a corner, as he cautiously as he turned the corner. Mike was right behind him as he stepped out, furthering his cautionary actions, and crept to the opposing wall on the corner. Together the two moved up the next hall, quickly clearing it to the end of the next. The next corner bares no life as the last had.

"Don, where are we going? I mean…any idea?" Mike asked as he stood guard; he shifted slightly from yet another shake of the ship.

"Well would you like to avoid people? Or-"

"Don I want to get the fuck out of here." Mike put it fairly bluntly.

"I know… me to…" D'rok sighed sympathetically. "Let's… just go this way. We will find a way out." He told Mike and began to go down the leftward corner.

Don was soon able to move efficiently; it was strangely almost a natural feeling, or maybe that was just his knack to quickly learn new skills. He had always been a fast learner; the SKYLARK training also helped to tap and sharpen such skills with every member involved; there were always similarities between the Contractors, but each always had their separate skills. Don was a fast learner and was very brilliant in swift, combat decisions; Mike was great at evaluating a situation from a distance, which was his role as a marksman.

The two crept as silently as their new and unfamiliar masses would allow into a large open room. Inside pillars lined vertically of many streaks of holographic-esc lines running from floor to ceiling. The lights flickered slightly as the ship shook and the white ceiling lights cut out, leaving onto the dancing illumination of the hologram pillars. The ship shook once more, the lights above dimmed to a dark fade. The majority of the light was the illumination from the holographic pillars. The two were in the dark now…

"Well…" Mike started quietly as he stood to the full act of his new height "I would love to say that it couldn't get any worse, but as you know that won't ever work" Mike said with a sigh, and as if on cue; a mass of footsteps could be heard entering the large room. Mike sighed. "What the fuck is this, AMC movie special?!" Mike growled.

Don pressed himself against the shadowed side of one of the pillars; he leaned awkwardly against the metal, being silent to not make anyone aware of his current location. Mike was just behind him on the rear side of the pillar. Voices soon accompanied the several footsteps; Don could hear most likely five or six of them. A quick beam of a flashlight slide from the floor to the wall, stopping there momentarily as several more lights swept the room; from the size and angle of the lights, Don knew that who had entered the room were walking the length of the room towards the pillars that he and Mike were hiding behind.

"Where are the lights, sarge?" A timid voice asked from a distance, the ship shook again; a soft explosion could be heard.

"Well the generator ran out of washer fluid, I don't know. What do I look like to you? A Psychic?!" Another voice, this one louder, deeper, the voice was tainted with age. "We need to get to the 2nd MAC gun platform and fast"

The voices stopped and the lights and footsteps grew nearer. Don was making an important discovery of himself; the strange fact of that even of the darkening of the room, he could still see very well. The two waited tensely as the steps became closer, the lights continued to race along the walls. Don's hands hurt from gripping the small weapon, in a rushed moment, he took a quick inventory; he fired three shells from the shotgun, he could have no more than four left, and Mike had several magazines for the handgun. He wondered how he would get him and mike out of this if possible, it all depending on how the group with the lights were equipped- Interrupting Don's thought processes, a man walked just a step passed the corner of the pillar; the man checked around the corner with his light and got a nice clear view of Don's form.

At the sight of the man's surprised expression, Don triggered the shotgun swiftly; the heavy buck shot sprang with a blast strait from the barrel and into the man's chest. The force killed him surely in an instant and sent his boy backwards several strides towards the center of the room. The man's weapon fell to the ground near the body's foot, the built in flash light illuminated the wall near Don

"Contacts!" One of them screamed, causing the many lights to flood around the pillars near Don and Mike.

The floor became an instant uproar, the group's weapons all fired in a crazed uproar. Don tightened his stance against the pillar as a wave of sparking ricochets snapped and bounced all around the pillar. Mike had moved to the same side of the pillar as Don, he rested himself tightly right behind Don.

"Don!" Mike gave a quick nudge to Don's shoulder behind him "Agro!" Mike then began to fire blindly around his side of the pillar, this quickly took attention to the attacking group and they focused.

Don rolled his eyes slightly at the reference and then he popped his shoulder from behind the pillar and fired a well-aimed shot from his weapon; the buckshot took one of the men down and nicked another in the shoulder, rendering his arm useless. Don pulled him back in and looked at Mike.

"I count six!" Don warned Mike, watching for a nod.

Once given Don pulled of another shot from around the pillar, taking two more men down, leaving four. Don's sudden firings distracted the group enough for Mike to quickly move to the next pillar up. Don pumped another shell into the chamber and fired it around the corner blindly; the returning fire was now more concentrated and heavy. Several shots rang out close to Don; Mike fired an entire magazine of his handgun at the group, he had an advantage of surprise as they were unaware of his relocation.

"Fall back to the armory!" One of the remaining men shouted.

Don popped his head out just in time to see two of the men dragging a badly wounded back into the door from which they had come; they fired several last burst of automatic fire in vain as they exited the room. There was a moment of silence, yet another explosion was off in this distance.

"Check!" Don shouted at Mike.

Mike moved forward cautiously and soon called back "Clear!"

The two came out from the pillars and to where the fallen members of the group had fallen, on his way, Don tossed the shogun to the side and picked up the steel automatic weapon near the first victim of the fight. Mike had managed to find that the armor which covered his hips were magnetic of some sort; he had taken the handgun and placed it on his side and he too picked up one of the steel automatic weapons. Don had grabbed two handguns from the dead and put one on each of his hips, and then the both of them gathered as many magazines for the steel weapons as they could, each trading off with each other at eight magazines each.

Using the flashlights which were built into the steel weapon just below the barrel, the two made their way quickly into the hallway as the men did. As they traversed down the hall an arrow painted on the floor labeled that the Armory the man had shouted of was nearby. They drew closer, gaining ground fast. Suddenly the entire ship shook hard, causing the two to almost lose their balance, but they wasted no time to recover and hurry towards the Armory's entrance.

The entrance was unguarded, Don waited a moment to prepare and with a 3,2,1 the two stormed through the door of the Armory; firing their shouldered weapons efficiently enough to subdue several of the men who were in the Armory. Don kneeled by a weapon rack and Mike stood over his rear and without receiving too much interference the rest of the men in the armory were dealt with, leaving Don and Mike left with an unoccupied Armory. Don stood and went to a large weapon chest full of the steel automatic weapons and he say that they were identifiable as MA37; Mike was near another chest which had the handguns labeled M6C.

"Don?" Mike asked

"Yes?"

"What is it with this flashing stuff around us?" Mike inquired

"Well…" Don took a moment to think "They are shields… we just have them for some reason" Don answered; he remembered that from the Halo games he used to play on his old beat-up Xbox.

"Don't try to explain why… and really? Whatever, man" Mike shrugged.

"It's complicated… let's just go." Don said as he pocketed several more of the MA37 magazines and looked around "that way; to the Hangar. Maybe we can get a plane out of here."

"A plane is space?" Mike chuckled

"Jesus, I don't know, Mike this whole situations screws logic right in the asshole, ya'know?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Let's go" Mike said as he followed Don out of the Armory in path of arrows to the Hangar.


	5. Act I Chapter V: TFSoTMD

**SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ**

**Fate Twister (Redux Edition)**

Act I Chapter V  
>"The First Step of The Mental Damage Plan"<p>

"Throwing Frag!" One of the humans yelled and through the gun fire came a sailing metal pineapple. The explosion from the bouncing sphere had pushed Don's cover slightly as it erupted on the opposing side. This had happened several times, but it was not much to be worried about.

The two had found themselves in a less than pleasing situation; just after they had left the armory for the hangar they had managed to get backed into a corner and they then got involved with a firefight. The corner's only cover were some metallic crates that varied in large sizes; somewhere just up to Don's hip, other's had top edges that were just above his head. Don had positioned himself with his left shoulder to the lip of a large crate and Mike had his back against the corner of the wall as he reloaded a magazine into one of the Human assault rifles he had procured from the armory. Both were on either side of the only way out of the small storage cutout room in the corner, which was an opening between the crate and the wall. Don was currently using a single shot range weapon that he had gotten from the same armory. 

"Don!" Mike called

"What?" Don pulled himself back behind the crate; he had emptied the clip, and looked over briefly at Mike. As he did he started to reload another clip into the weapon. As Mike began to respond he caught the model of the gun which rest etched on the side; it read M392 Designated Marksman Rifle.

"I've only got three magazines' left." Mike informed him. Don had less.

"Shit" Don paused to look deeper into the storage room. "Go check out some of those crates. I'll keep these bastards busy." With that, Don peered around the crate with the rifle shouldered and his finger ready at the trigger. He cracked a few shots off at a small group of brave soldiers who had begun to advance on the corner. Of the three of them, Don hit one in the shoulder and twice in the gut, and another in the head just to the left of his nose. The one who was shot in the face fell back instantly, leaving the unscathed one to flee without aiding the other who had gotten shot.

Mike had found some ammunition for both of their weapons in the crates; this solved their first immediate problem but they still had to figure out how to get out. Don began to think once he had subdued several daring humans. He pulled himself back into cover to reload. As he did he gave a quick suggesting nod to Mike, who then pivoted his aim out beyond the opening to the pillars that the soldiers had been using for cover. He held his watchful stance for some moments then pulled himself back to where he had been

"Clear" Mike breathed out quietly.

"You don't sound too sure" Don muttered as he peered his head around the corner to look carefully at the edges of the pillars. He could make out the long barrel of a weapon that ended in the similar bulbous fashion as an M82, a sniper rifle.

"See anything?"

"Sniper…"

"Well, this sucks. What are we going to do?"

"Make a break for it, we have shields"

"True… I still don't understand that. Why do we have them?"

"Because of our equipment"

"It's cool and all…"

"Mike, shut the hell up" Don cut Mike off. "I'm trying to think"

Don got quiet and Mike rolled his eyes, while he couldn't blame Don for this, but he found it quite annoying at times like these. It was just how Don operated; everything had to be preplanned, premeditated, and perfect in order to work. If it wasn't then the result would be as Don would say: a "cluster-fuck. However Mike did not have to wait long for an answer, but it wasn't from Don.

"Alright" A voice spoke through a PA system; it was a kind of voice that one could easily place with a gruff every-night-late-at-the-bar tough kind of guy. "This is Sergeant John Forge of the United Nations Space Core. I do not wish to waste any more of mine or the Captain's time, supplies, or manpower to try and get you both back into custody. You have two options, listen carefully: One: you can lower your weapons and surrender nicely, or Two: we will simply lower the oxygen levels in you section of the ship until you are both passed out and retrieve you that way. You have exactly 30 seconds to make a decision."

Mike blinked several times, he was simply astonished. Don cursed repeatedly under his breath; they both knew that there was nothing they could do. They had no leverage; the soldiers had home field advantage. Don threw his weapon violently against the wall, if there was one thing that pissed him off it was defiantly the exceptionally rare case that he would be ousted, which had most defiantly just had happened.

"We could always pull suicide, or would you just like to throw a fucking temper tantrum instead? " Mike asked sarcastically. Sarcasm was one of his stress devices.

"So help me Christ, you speak another word and I will gut you ass first" Don growled as he put his foreign palm down his face.

A moment later he slowly made his way out to the middle of the floor and took to his knees like one of the advancing soldiers told him to do; Mike followed suit. As more soldiers grouped around the two, Don let a defeated groan escape his mouth as one of them took his hands behind his head and bound them together by rope. All he could do was close his eyes, clench his jaws together tightly, and wait patiently as his face met the cold bulkhead.

D'rok, in all of his embarrassment, had taken a little bit of a nap. When he woke up, he was laying on the cold floor; he had briefly wondered if he had even been moved. It hurt to open his eyes, like sand had somehow entered them. The only reprieve that he experienced was the cool feeling of his cheek against the floor. Don sat up with a groan; he rested his back on his palms. He soon rolled to his side as his stomach began to burn fiercely. He clutched his middle as he brought his knees as close to his chest as he could. He lay there for quite some time; this was mostly due to him finding it fairly quiet. There were a few times that he verged expunging the few contents that his stomach may have held.

Soon Don found himself waking once again, luckily for him he was not in so much pain this time. He was still very groggy, a bit of mucus deep in his throat fluctuated with his breathing. He sat up slowly until he could rest his elbows on his knees. After sitting up he spent what he thought could possibly be an hour studying his new hands; he figured this change of form was for the long run, so he would need to get used to it. He looked up to see that he was in a large cell, Mike sat nearby on a cot, there was a sink and a vehicle covered in an olive/army green drape.

Don stood slowly, his joints popped in protest. As he stretched his aching muscles a yawn began to creep up from the pit of his throat. His mouth suddenly split suddenly in to four sideways directions as the yawn made its way out, this made Don nervous. Yes, he did know that elites hand mandibles, but the feeling of his 'first' yawn was quite an unsettling experience. Once it was over it left Don touching his new mouth parts; strangely, as weird and abstract as the feeling of it was, it felt somehow natural to him. Don dispelled this as his high adaptability kicking it, though it did not explain the feelings.

At the sink there was a mirror which hung stationary abort the faucet. Wanting to see what he now looked like, Don walked over to the mirror. Staring back at him through the dirty window was a bright green pair of feral eyes. They looked like something from Jurassic Park, the eyes of a raptor; a snake; a predator. His face was much different now, the soft peach colored skin and smooth rounds of a Human was no longer visible. In its place was now the dark tan, almost brown color of skin, four mandibles, each with a nice row of straightly aligned teeth glimmered under a small cheek between his eye level and the top of the upper two mandibles. With each pacing breath his nostril flared and his mandible's quivered out and in as he stared into the slit pupils that stare back through the glass. His head was shaped like a sort of mix between a snake and a shark with mandibles for mouth parts. Don sighed deeply as yet another layer of realization that he was lacking humanity. He was not the same anymore; this was just one more solidifying factor to this.

Don looked over at Mike, he had not moved from the cot. Mike had in fact lay down and seemed to be pretending to sleep. His breathing was way too elevated to be asleep. Then he turned to the covered vehicle. Judging by the size of the covered vehicle, it was definitely a car of some sort. He would investigate this; some internal inkling told him that it was his. He stepped closer and took hold of the coarse sheet. With the blanket pried within his strong fingers, he slowly pulled the cover from the car. Underneath the safe covering lay the twisted mass of a Shelby Mustang; this was what remained of his car. The once sleek and beautiful machine now lay belittled to a nothing more than just a pile of metal. Since the screen had been removed, the visible sights of wrinkled and crushed metal lay waste to the entirety of the vehicle and the foul fumes of dripping oils and other black liquids stained the floor and air.

Don frowned in disgust as he looked upon the poor thing that was his pride and joy. He looked carefully over the damage, kneeling closer to inspect things such as the bumpers and quarter-panels. The beast was crushed in from all sides; the only somewhat unscathed area was the left side of the rear grill. Scuffs and indentations were all over the crushed exterior; strongly it gave the beast a leaner appearance. Don knelt finally by the front bumper. One side of the bumper rested on the floor not being held by anything and the left headlight had been crushed in so badly that the headlight or glass was no longer visible. He reached under the lip of the bent hood and forced it open. Inside the engine was fairly acceptable in a matter of damage. While the hoses and plugs had been shaken and now leaked, the V8 itself was fine. Don spent a good half an hour doing his best to fix all that he could; he had the know-how about engines and vehicles from several years before. His father owned an auto collision that he helped at regularly. 

He missed that.

After tampering with the engine he washed his hands in the sink, cleaning his hands of the grime and grease with the little bit of soap that was present on the sink. He looked over to see Mike had sat up on the cot. Mike was looking at his hands much like Don had been earlier. Don stood at the sink, silently watching his friend play with the new layout of fingers. It barely dawned on Don that they had not experimented a lot sooner, back when they were at the other cells.

"It's weird, huh?" Don inquired, trying to break the lengthened silence.

After a long pause, Mike replied with a simple "Yup". It was that kind of reply that one gives when they are extremely deep in thought or bothered by something.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I don't know…"

"Mike..." Don turned fully to his friend. "You need to tell me… it is the only way I can help."

"No! You can't help this Don! Not this time!" Mike yelled at Don, his breathing still remained rapid and deep.

"Alright… fine, whatever you say, Mike" This was not the time to avoid abrasions so Don turned back to the car.

He opened the door and saw how horrible everything in the cabin had been thrown around. Several documents lay thrown about in the back seat and the floor. Shards of broken glass from the driver's side and rear windows littered the cabin. Don brushed off the glass from the driver's seat and he then moved the driver's seat back as far as it would go. He then carefully lowered himself in, surprising he somehow fit snuggly within the seat; his thick armor made it feel a bit awkward however. Don looked slowly over the dash; the glass that covered the speedometer was cracked diagonally, the center council was a mess and its contents, although they still rest in their general places, were moved in random positions. His CDs had been dumped into another open bin from their horizontal tray above. Next to them was a bobble hula girl laying on her back; her warm waxed smile gleamed up at Don, trying to let him know that she would love to dance for him. He chuckled softly at it. 

Since the immediate interior was fairly intact, Don opened the center console to see if his more valuable objects where still there. Inside he found his wallet, some money, traveling and release papers, and his dog tags and his Colt m1911 pistol; its magazine rest loaded still near to the handle of the handgun. He reached carefully into the deep pocket and pulled out the black leather wallet. The front flap was decorated with the Destiny symbol, one again he chuckled, but this time it was more nerving to him than the hula dancer; memories. He remembered how a lot of the guys back in Afghanistan used to pick jokes at him for that; he had always loved Bungie and their games, from the Marathon to the most recent games.

Don opened his wallet to check what if his things were still in there, the soldiers must have moved it, and hopefully they didn't rob him of his belongings. Everything was still inside. His drivers license, his social security card, a picture of Mike and him in Iraq during 2013 in full uniform… there was another picture behind it, the small edge of it could be seen behind the one of him and his friend, it was like someone had purposely hid it behind the other but it was now viewable from the motions of friction on the wallet. He knew what it was; he had hid this picture there. Slowly he pulled the hidden photo out into view. On it was a woman who was of the same age as him; she had long dark hair and bright blue eyes. She was fairly attractive; this was obvious, as she, in the picture, was posed on top of the red silky sheets of a bed at home. She wore black lingerie and rested casually on her hip as she smiled suggestively at the camera. This woman was not foreign to Don, she was his lover; His girlfriend.

Upon meeting eyes with the lady in the picture Don cringed. There was a reason he had kept that behind that other picture. It was to not remind himself of her during his tours of duty. He couldn't have thrown it away. It was something he carried as a good luck charm, but the sight of it made him deathly sick to his stomach; he would become fearful, not of losing her, but of her losing him. He sighed deeply as thoughts and memories of her forcefully entered his train of thought. Her name was Morgan Chasey. At 5'6, she was everything that he loved in a woman. She was the perfect bundle of fun and joy, the goddess edition. The two were very close ever since they started dating in high school during freshmen year. He was actually arranging asking her to marry him once he had returned home. There would have needed to have been some time to get him and her alone, as it had been two years since he had last been in her presence. He would have done it at favorite place to watch the sun set, on the top of Mt. (Enter near Winnemucca. It was one of the highest elevations where they lived and there was nothing to hinder the view of the west skies. He remembered that during certain points of sunset, the sky would have a beautiful display of vivid red, yellow, and even purple. It was probably the thing that they enjoyed the most together… that is when Don was even home.

Don closed his eyes tightly and softly spoke a word of fornication, he tilted his head back and rested the back of his neck on the headrest of the seat as the memories poured into his head like a five gallon bucket being poured into a gallon jug; his mind was overwhelmed very quickly. He could feel his mouthparts tighten together as a wave of agony washed over him; this caused tears to form at his eye lids. He opened his eyes and stared down at the picture, a heavy tear rolled off of his cheek and onto the side of his mouth where it would get lost in his dehydrated skin. He looked directly into the girls eyes, undistracted by her naturally occurring beauty and lusty smile. Her bright blue eyes stared happily back into his, it was if the picture was mocking him for the distance in how far he was from her. It felt to him as if his internal organs, whatever they were now, were being crushed to a single, fleshy pellet. All his mind could render was that she was lost. It was the only possible outcome, which was all that he could think.

Don rubbed his tearing eyes then looked back down into the center console. Don reached into the main compartment and took the M1911 from where it was. He held it in his left hand and looked over the firearm. His eyes slowly moved over the word "DARREL" which was edged into the dark grey chrome of the slide. This pistol was one of a pair; the other had the word "DIMEBAG", both a reference to the famous guitarist. Mike had a pair as well, same guns but with "Vinnie/Paul" on their slides. Don slide the loaded clip into the gun and slowly pulled the slide back between his thumb and index finger; after letting the weapon click as it was primed, he then released it return to its default position. This might be useful later in case they wanted to make an escape.

Don got out of the driver's seat and sat against the side of the car, he continued to look over the handgun. The handle was small in his hand and his finger barely fit into the opening of the trigger. After a while he had visually soaked in every detail of the weapon, so he set it down beside him and his hands moved to hold his saddened face. He eventually stood up from the floor and rested himself against the roof edge of the car, his arms instinctively lay crossed in front of his chest as he looked back done at the floor. He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

"It will be alright, Don" Mike spoke suddenly. Don looked up to see Mike standing just a few feet away from him.

"What do you mean it will be alright?" Don snapped back sharply

"I mean…well it's just… umm" Mike, who was taken aback by Don's response.

"Oh? It seems that you don't have an answer for me, 'buddy'. It sucks when the person who tries to mediate can get headway doesn't it?" Don snarled.

"There isn't a reason to get hostile!" Mike retorted firmly, lowering his stance a little "I'm just trying to console you now"

"Console me for what?!" Don, who was quickly deteriorating mentally, asked, once again growling, as his arms lowered from their cross.

"I don't know, maybe your girlfriend being dead"

"She is not dead!" Don stamped his foot, taking a step closer to Mike "She is out there, I know. I will find her!" His fists were balled tightly.

"Come on, Don. Let's be realistic here. We're have… more important things to worry about now! I have dealt with this before, I can help you too!"

"Whatever, I dont want to think of anywhere else!"

Mike was getting quite annoyed. "Don come on, it is kind of your fault we got here"

"My fault!? You're the one who begged me to push it!" Don yelled.

"You agreed to do it! You suck at driving!"

"At least I can drive without getting crushed by a truck!" Don screamed in reference to Mike's mother's demise. She had been T-Boned by a tractor trailer going under 20 through a four way at around the time of Mike's 10th birthday. This was not the best thing he could have spoken with the fuel of rage and anger.

Mike's pupils clamped tightly together and he roared as he lunged at Don. Don's back was slammed into the side of the car, the driver's side window shattered from the impact. Don growled loudly as Mike forced him closer and closer to the floor. Once Don had freed one of his hands, he struck with his fist to Mike's face. Mike growled louder as he began to take several blows to his cheek. Mike and Don exchanged blows in rolling brawl that traversed from the car side to the wall and back. As they came back Don threw Mikes head into the door which caused some disorientation. Don then kicked Mike from him with a forceful boot. Mike fell back to his rear from the kick and both scrambled to their feet; Don was faster. As Mike brought his head up towards Don, his cheek was met with a downward fist. Mike recoiled from the blow he found himself turned quite a bit from it, he had fallen to a hand and knee; Don, in response, gave Mike a swift kick into his side, making him to be tossed to his side. He took hold of the gasping body by the armored neck cuff and dragged him quickly to the bars of the cell. Once he propped the person against the bars he gave it one more facial blow. The skin just above Mike's left cheek parted; dark purple colored blood began to trickle out of the wound.

Don left the whimpering body and went back to the car. He opened the ajar door and reached in slowly for the M1911. The handgun was a small fit to his hand, but he held it tightly with his large fingertip on the ready trigger. His locked stare at Mike's face as he walked back over briskly. His veins pumped hard and wildly with unnecessary abhorrence and his mind, sent into an illogical state fueled by situational shock and the uncounted hours of uneasy nerves, screamed for blood and an uncalled vengeance. The both had just happened to somehow been able to push each other too far. Don raised the handgun at Mike's head; the short silver barrel was but two feet from Mike's face.

_Go; tell me you're not scared. _Don desired in thought as a ghastly smile. He was going to kill him. That was his only current process.

Suddenly a large rod of steel came swinging down on Don's wrist. With a sickening clunk, the handgun was lost freed from Don's hand, and he drew his pained hand close to him and lightly tried to make a fist. He turned to snarl just in time to see a Human near the age of 25 or so. Don focused on the man's firm, bristled face. The man was holding a metallic rod and was already swinging again. Don was not able to react in time and the end of the staff collided with his jaw side, then he was met by a pained blackness.


	6. Act I Chapter VI: TWKoI

**SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ**

**Fate Twister (Redux Edition)**

Act I Chapter VI

"The Wrong Kind of Interrogation"

Don blinked lazily; the lids of his eyes were sluggish and heavy. His whole body felt uncomfortable to him; it was not the uncomfortable feeling of how he woke up as an Elite, this was more like he was being posed like a doll. His vision didn't take long too clear, as it seemed to be the process of waking from a generic and normal sleep. His eyes darted around to see where he was. To his surprise it was just a large empty square room, the wall across was a bit off in color from the rest of the steel grey metal walls and floor, Don figured it was most likely observation rooms or something. To his sides he noticed that his wrists were tied tightly by chain to the wall. With the exception of his lower half and backside, gravity pulled firmly at him to 'fall' forward. With a soft groan he let his hang head indolently from his shoulders.

He soon closed his eyes with a deep sigh at the discovery that he was at least not dead. He had a bit to think about, and he had plenty of time to contemplate as it would seem, there was no one to talk to and he doubted begging or shouting would get him anything. Instead he thought about how he had snapped, which had only happened before once, against Mike. He wondered how Mike was doing and if he would be still greatly mentally moved by Don's actions. There was great worry tossed between the rational and irrational halves of his mind about the well-being of Morgan and if he would ever see her once again. These were just a few things that his mind had chosen and these are what it gladly ran wildly with.

Don had lost all sense of time after a bit, he didn't remember experiencing it either; what could have been hours or maybe even days could have been but minutes. The measurements of time had nothing in influencing his thoughts or what he felt. He could have slept or slipped into a coma for hell's sake, and he wouldn't have known it. However, his mind, in wild trek of plotting and piecing together the logical explanation of the most current life events of Don Caster, was interrupted as a seamless panel of wall sunk inward and then slid upwards to reveal an entrance. A man entered through the new opening. As he did, Don could not help but let his fists clench tightly into balls as a lowly and rumbling growl escape from his throat. He didn't mean to do that, it just seemed to happen as some instinct of rage.

The man simply chuckled in a sick manner as he stood directly in front of Don. The man stared straight back into the alien eyes of him; his face wore a victorious grin across his firm jawline. The man calmly lowered his right arm to his hip where he unlatched the lock of a side arm's holster. The man made no move to draw the silver glossed weapon, his free arm returned to his chest where it crossed the other until it rest comfortably over his chest. Don watched the man carefully, there was something about the man's visual presenting that could prove to be very troublesome in character. At an appearance he was most definitely not a man you would want to break into a fight in a bar with.

"Do you speak intelligently?" The man asked, demanding in tone. Don just stood agape, he was taken off side with the question; as if he was astonished he was actually that the man were to actually ask that. "You will cooperate completely or I will kill you" The man urged louder, aggression was very present in the man's voice; the

"Yes" Don's growl continued

"Hmm… how do you know how to speak English?" The man inquired

Don had to think on how he would respond to this. He could come out and just give what he knew including the whole transformation thing that had happened. However something like that would get him killed. He was sure that the Sangheili race didn't naturally speak Human languages. 

"Well…" Don paused as he worked out a statement; he could feel his tense mandibles loosen as the growl stopped. The mandibles then became tightly tucked themselves together. It felt in comparison to a human biting their lip to him. "We both, upon our… arrival" he paused "we seemed to suffer to a streak of mass confusion" He paused once again "I hit my head and I lost track of things… your language is easier than ours I guess." Don answered slowly, it was easy for him to stay calm, but sounding true to what he was saying was hard with several moving mouthparts.

"Hmm..." the man muttered "What is your name?"

"My name?" Don forced himself not to blink.

"Yes, what is it?"

"My name is…" Don thought quickly. He had some mental pictures running through his head suddenly. '_Donald Richard!' _rang from his mother when he broke her prized vase when he was ten years old. D'rok was his result; the first letter from his first and middle name, the little letter tear drop to seem more of an alien spelling, and just an 'ok' at the end because he couldn't think of much. "My name is D'rok"

"Do you have a last name?"

"That is irrelevant." Don, now self-referred D'rok, answered.

"I asked you a question!" The man tensed up.

"I know that you have. However I will not answer your questions unless you work on a bit more personal level. I think it would only be fair for me to know my captor." D'rok explained.

"I guess you're not as stupid as I thought… you're right" The man mentioned as he looked at Don more seriously "My name is John…John Forge."

"Good… see that wasn't hard, was it?" D'rok smiled.

"Don't be a smart ass."

"Oh, I hardly know the term." D'rok tilted his head and stared sharply at John. 

"Fine. Fine." John rolled his eyes and looked down for a moment. "What about your friend? What is his name?"

D'rok though quickly "His name is K'an" He spat out.

"Ok… next question: Where are you two from?"

"I have no idea. I don't remember." D'rok partly lied.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." D'rok watched the man carefully.

John raised is right hand to his chin as to contemplate. He paused for a good time. "Well…you did hit your head pretty hard… I heard that you were out for days." He admitted.

"I guess"

"Well… that just means you are really no use to me." John admitted

"Sorry…"

"Yeah, fine… I'll go tell the Captain…" John turned to leave.

"What happens to us then?" D'rok asked as he tracked John with his eyes.

"I can't tell you" John made his way to the door. As he got to the opening in the wall D'rok could hear him mutter to someone else 'ok, do it' just before John slipped into the dark opening.

Just as soon as he had left, a pair of uniformed men entered the room with what looked like a syringe of some sorts. D'rok did his best to pull back from them but it was really no use; he was chained tightly to the wall. The man who carried the syringe quickly put it against D'rok's left arm. He gave a soft grunt with the sting of the syringe as it pierced his skin. Almost immediately he began to feel limp; his vision quickly blacked out and then he felt nothing.

D'rok lost consciousness he was in a state of mind that felt to him like he was falling through a deep abyss; it was as if he was falling through himself at times. It was difficult for him to mentally grip a specific description of the feeling. It was not the first time he had been sedated, but it felt to him that he might have overdosed on said pacifying method. He struggled to grasp anything from the darkness. Strangely he could feel someone, if not something, waiting or watching him. He couldn't really tell, but he could feel it; his eyes even occasionally perceived some sort of mass within the darkness. Besides that however, there was nothing. No perception of time; no noise or visual information; no one else to experience the dark bliss.

Suddenly all of the darkness changed, it became foggy and became slightly colored. He could feel again, and he mainly felt groggy. His throat felt heavy and he began to hear voices. The voices came first after his feelings, even before his eyes began to give very blurry visual information. There were two voices speaking English, an existing conversation was taking place very close. It was either right over top of him or right next to him. He could feel a stiff surface under him as his ears started making sense of the speaking.

"…and these things came from Harvest?" One voice asked, a male.

"Kind of... They kinda just popped onto the ship. In the starboard side of hangar 18" the other, again a male, replied.

"'Pop' as in teleport pop? Or 'pop' as in blasted through the wall projectile pop?"

"The teleport one…"

"Interesting. So that means that these creatures can teleport."

"I don't know… if they could why didn't they teleport away?"

"Good point… maybe they can't. I wouldn't rule that out."

"What are we going to do with them now?"

"We are going to keep them sedated and send them to Reach. Command will send them to the scientists to take 'em apart to see what they are made of." The one replied after a pause..

"Should I sedate him now?"

"Yes…" There was some shuffling of some sort of equipment nearby.

"You will take them to the colony of Arcadia to put them onto a heavy UNSC Frigate to take them directly to Reach. We will keep in contact with you. 

"Ok… for what?" D'rok felt another prick of a syringe on his skin. 

"In case we manage to get more of them that are closer… it will take a while to get them off of Jericho VII and even Arcadia to Reach will take weeks or even months in preparation time." 

"What do you want me to do if you contact me?" 

"Follow protocol. I won't really contact you unless we capture more living specimens." 

"And what do you want me to do if that happens?" 

There was a pause. 

"Then just fucking kill them"

Once D'rok had been forced back into the deep sedation he was left off right where he was before. All that had changed was he had just a few more questions and concerns, which was nothing new at this point. Soon it might be considered just another random happening. The only similarity from before his brief wakening was that whatever he could see in the distance was still there. The dim form lingered softly as if it was waiting for something; toying with him possibly.

D'rok struggled to make it out for quite a seemingly long timespan. Benefiting his curiosity, the form started to take more of a shape and it had seemed to start making sound. Although the sounds it made were nothing much more than a deep rumble. The rumbling soon grew more defined, it came in short bursts that were similar to… language. D'rok could feel his head tilt naturally to try and make it out.

"..nnnnnnn" The rumble rang out loudly just before it spoke in tongue. "Innntrestinng…"

The sudden word made D'rok jump

"I have…" The noise, now voice, began to speak clearer as several, as D'rok could make them out, tentacle like appendages approached him from the form. "Seen mannny 'beings' in allll formsss" The voice spoke with a hiss. "but I have yet to explain the fffew such as yyyou" The voice snarled in a graveling sense. The tentacles halted their approach. "I sssenssse you have some importance rather… thannn just random occurrenccce…"

The appendages sunk back with the form, disappearing quickly into the darkness, leaving D'rok to a quickly fading ponder. As quickly as the form had left, the world was rushing to him; his sense of smell and vision came back so quick it was painful. He found himself looking up at a grey ceiling.

D'rok tried to sit up quickly. He only got so far before a pair of very hostile Human males shoved him back against the slab he lay on. He tried to grab instinctively at them in defense but he arms and legs were restrained at his sides.

"You lay the fuck back down!" The human to his left spat in his face. D'rok snarled in an automated response. The male punched him in the face as a result. 

"Keep that bastard's head down!" The other yelled as the two forced a strap over D'rok's head. They tightened it and restrained his head to the left against the slab.

The one that had spat in D'rok's face came into center view. He smiled in a sinister grin at D'rok who couldn't help but growl between his mouthparts.

"You sons of bitches are out there slaughtering my friends back on Harvest" The male stated and he pointed his index finger at D'rok "Your fucking dead. You guys messed with the wrong species" The man gave a quick pant with furious eyes before "You sure they don't need him?" he asked the other.

"Positive, command contacted us about an hour ago. They got a whole batch of them somehow about a week ago. These two aren't needed because the ones that they captured will arrive at Reach before this ship." The other answered.

"So we can do whatever we like?"

"Yup… what do you want to do with them?"

D'rok was not liking this, not that he could do much, but he started to try to muscle his self from the slab. He got nowhere and the male in front of him struck at his face several times. D'rok knew he was bleeding from his cheek and brow.

"You know what?" The male in front of him came back to center view with his menacing smile. "I think we should force them to play a game." The man chuckled grimly as D'rok's nose filled with blood. Quickly D'rok's head was covered, he felt like he had been suddenly semi-sedated, and from there he could do nothing as he was being taken somewhere.

D'rok, before he knew it, was suddenly blinded as the head covering was yanked from him. A hanging light flooded his vision from the past dark he saw, making it temporarily appear as a sun above him. As his vision cleared he could make out Mike, or known now as K'an, at the end of a table that rest between them. K'an looked listlessly up at him, his face covered in bruises and bleeding from some form of battery. To D'rok's right he could see nothing but the dark outlines of a wall past the edge of the reaches of the light. He started to turn his head to the left just as a clenched fist slam into his cheek. D'rok's head recoiled from the blow and he quickly snapped his head back around to hiss at his attacker as his blood continued to run from his face. This resulted in him getting struck several time by a clearly made out Human Marine.

"Oh I've waited a long fucking time for this." The human yelled as he spat at D'rok's face before hitting him once again.

The human took a step back from the side of the table and reached down to a holster on his right leg, from it he pulled out some sort of revolver. He undid a pin on the side and the cylinder swung out from the side of the receiver. He quickly took all but one of the large caliber rounds out of the cylinder. With a flick of his wrist, the human snapped the cylinder back into its place. He brought the revolver upward, pointing the barrel at the same direction of the hanging light, and span the cylinder on its ejector rod. The Human waited till the clicking cylinder slowed to a stop, then her forcefully set the thing in front of K'an.

"I want you to put this against your head and pull the fucking trigger!" The human thundered in K'an's face. K'an just stared at the man unresponsive; he clearly did not wish to play the Human's game.  
>"Pick it up!" The Human continued towards K'an.<p>

D'rok watched several beads of sweat form on the enraged Human's shaved head. After a moment had passed, the Human was not satisfied. He picked up the heavy revolver from the table and bashed it against K'an's head with the butt of the handle.

"Take it you fucker!" The human yelled as he aimed at K'an's head. He pulled the trigger…. Click, the hammer of the revolver stuck dry. No shot was fired. "Hmm…you lucked out… let's try your friend out here." He turned and sharply looked at D'rok. "Your turn"

The man slammed the revolver down onto its right side in front of D'rok. He sat looking over it; "MIRASHA TM4 Slayer 500. Mag" was etched down the silver barrel; the handle was made out of black tinted hardwood; crafted to the handle was a silver badge with an "O.D.S.T." ensign on it; and finally, the bullet left in the cylinder was left was next in line to be fired. Next trigger pull would be the fatal one. D'rok begun to pull his hand from the side of the table for the magnum, but he was just a bit too slow. The man suddenly snatched the revolver from the table and took it tightly in hand.

"Oh I see you're it" The Human grinned brightly, he had noticed the same thing D'rok had. "I was hoping it was you." He slowly began to lift the barrel to D'rok's face.

Suddenly, there was a distant explosion somewhere in the ship; the hanging light shook slightly as it flickered above them. The Human looked toward the direction of the sound, leaving D'rok with a perfect opening. D'rok's mandibles clenched tightly as he swiftly swept his arm around and gripped over the Human's hand. The Human swore as D'rok's grip held his hand from doing anything. D'rok kicked his chair behind him and with his other are, slugged the Human in the face with an iron fist. The breaking of the Human's nose cracked beneath D'rok's knuckles. The human grunted in pain and his grip loosened from the gun. D'rok took the Human's arm and in his strength he brought his knee up to the Human's elbow. This violently snapped the Human's arm backwards at the elbow. The Human screamed in pain and his grip was lost completely of the handle. D'rok took the Magnum by the barrel and flipped it so he held the handle. As D'rok raised the barrel of the hand cannon he delivered a swift kick to the Human's chest. With a steady aim, D'rok fired at the Human's mass as his body darkened as it left the light and bounced against the steel wall just past the light. The barrel flared brightly and the large bullet left the barrel with a shattering thunderclap. D'rok felt several droplets of spray hit his face and before the accumulated smoke had even begun to stoke out of the barrel, the Human's body had fell to the floor with a heavy thud. D'rok lowered the Magnum to his side and wiped the Human's blood from his face with his free hand.

K'an looked up sharply from the table at D'rok. Just as he did a rectangle of the wall behind him began to slowly open, revealing light into the room; the sounds of men were behind it. D'rok lowered the handgun to his side. Strangely it felt as if the weapon was being pulled to the hip section of the armor he still wore. He let the metal of the weapon stick to his hip and he let go of the handle.

"K'an, left side!" D'rok shouted as he took hold of the table that they had been sat at.  
>"Help me!"<p>

D'rok began shoving the heavy metallic table towards the opening. With the help of K'an, the table slid heavily over the metal floor. K'an aided D'rok in flipping the table onto its side just at the opening, leaving only a small sliver of the opening unblocked.

"You hold that and make sure that they can't push it away" D'rok told K'an regardless of the fact that the door was nothing but a huge mass of lead weight.

More lights began to flicker on in the room and D'rok turned back to the now decapitated body against the wall. He quickly knelt down at the body and began to search swiftly for ammunition. There was handful of hollow point cartridges that he pulled from one of the man's belt-bound pouch. D'rok quickly loaded the weapon's cylinder. He stood and looked around. There seemed to be no other exit from the room other than the one that the massive table was successfully blocking. The room was set up like an interrogation room. With a bit of thought, D'rok began to tap the end of the barrel along the walls of the room.

"What are you doing?" K'an asked as he picked up a metal rod that had broken from the table.

"Testing to see if there is a two way glass" D'rok answered. Almost as soon as he had he received the pleasant sound of an echoed tap from the barrel.  
>"Hmm" D'rok took a few steps back and aimed the magnum at the echoed wall. He pulled the trigger and the barrel flared with a thunder clap. The entire face of the wall seemed to shatter into a web pattern of broken glass. He then took the rod from K'an and quickly struck the standing sheet of cracked glass.<p>

With such force the sheet of cracked glass fell in shards to the floor, an observation room lay revealed behind the now absent blind. D'rok stepped into the small observation room carefully. Despite his caution the sound of breaking glass crunching beneath him still rang out, however it would doubtfully be noticed over the men that were yelling and struggling fiercely with the blocked entrance. The observation room had a door that shared the same room side as the interrogation room. D'rok checked carefully to make sure that K'an was following him then he approached the door. The door beeped softly and began to open as the surroundings shook once more with the distant sound of yet another explosion. Once the door fully opened D'rok quickly checked outside. To the right was a trio of men still trying to get into the blocked interrogation room and to the left was an empty hallway.

D'rok switched the handgun to his left hand and gripped it tightly. He knelt down to the edge of the doorway. He peered out a little and fired the weapon at the trio. The shot had soared into the right shoulder of the closest man and took a large chunk of it away. As the man recoiled into the others screaming D'rok entered the hallway and fired twice more into the other two. Those two shot proved to be fatal: One railed through one of the men's throat and the other went straight into the other's forehead, leaving only the man missing his right shoulder to fall on his companions.

D'rok approached him and stood over the pained man. Firmly he pointed the barrel of the handgun at the man's head. "Which way to the hangar bay?!" D'rok shouted at the man loudly, resulting the man breaking into tortured tears. The sound of distant gunfire rang out from the other direction. D'rok pulled the trigger, sending a slug straight into the man's face.

"We are going this way then!" D'rok turned around and pointed quickly beyond K'an before he tossed the MA37 assault rifle from one of the dead men to K'an.

"Alright, I'll lead" K'an told D'rok as he pulled the slide back on the weapon.

"Ok, let's get going, it sounds like we aren't the only ones making a standing effort." D'rok said calmly as he stood, assault rifle and an extra magazine in hand; the magnum stuck to his hip.

Without saying another word the two moved cautiously down the corridor. They moved fairly quickly however and they made sure to peer their selves through each open doorway; K'an on right, D'rok slightly behind him on the left. They made sure they were not going to get surprised. It didn't take them long to get to the end of the hallway. The two pressed themselves against the small lip of the doorway of the hallway and were able to see the source of the volleys of gunfire. On the other side of the door the hallway opened up into a fairly large and open cargo bay. There were several medium and small sized crates scattered around in bunches in several locations on the open floor. A back and forth firefight was taking place across the floor. To the left there were a few dozen Humans with assault rifles and to the right there was a half a dozen of non-humans. D'rok identified them quickly as Sangheili, Covenant Elites.

"So there are more of us?" K'an asked quickly

"No. Remember I told you that there was an entire species." D'rok explained.

"Yeah." He seemed to think "They seem to be winning the firefight… I say we help them out and try to go with them." K'an pointed out.

"It's a better bet than staying here captive… we might be able to pull it off that we were captives. I heard a few of the Humans mentioning a whole bunch of them that they had snagged" D'rok paused as he thought. "Ok just keep your mouth shut, amnesia scenario. I know it sounds stupid but I don't think you have a better idea." D'rok explained

"Oh god" K'an shuddered as he shouldered his weapon "This is so stupid."

With a quick moment to prepare, the two rushed out of the doorway. They propped themselves behind some sections of railing that had some crates in front of them. D'rok peered over his cover to look down to the main part of the cargo bay where the Humans were. He quickly counted roughly 13 of them with three more rushing in from another hallway. He also could make out a trio of dark armored Sangheili exchanging fire with the Humans from behind the cover of another cluster of cargo crates. As the two exchanged rounds, the deep voices of the Sangheili could be heard spouting out rushed conversations in an alien tongue amounts each other.

"Well. We may as well help them. I don't think there isn't anything else to do to help us." D'rok pointed out. K'an gave an agreeing shrug.

With a quick glance back over the railing, the two propped themselves with the barrels of their weapons just above their cover. The duo fired quickly in bursts onto the grouping Humans. This proved effective as there was a clear shot to the Human's right flank from their position. Several Humans fell immediately as D'rok and K'an suppressed their bursts into the tightly packed groups. The ones that had time to react spread from one another as they frantically tried to retaliate to their now endangered flank. As the group quickly dissipated, a bright, blue burning sphere bounced between the openings of the crates that the Humans were using. The sphere emitted a high pitched whine then exploded violently in a flash of vibrant teal and blue hues.

"Woah! Fireworks!" K'an exclaimed as the two pulled back in cover from the sudden flash.

"Plasma grenade." D'rok explained quickly.

"I won't even ask…" K'an groaned as he pulled the magazine from the stock of the bull-pup style weapon. "I'm almost out" he announced as he replaced it.

"Here, take mine. I'll use this pistol thing." D'rok set his assault rifle down against the railing and handed the last two full magazines to K'an. He pulled the revolver magnum from his side and checked the cylinder.

D'rok peeked up above their cover again only to pull his head back as a pair of Humans quickly tried to snap a few shots at him. He counted four that would be an easy shot. He nudged K'an to cover him. As K'an sent a few rounds blindly over the railing down at the Humans, D'rok stood fully up with the hefty revolver aimed forward. Quickly he fired at the four unhidden targets; one thunder clapping round after another, D'rok dropped each of the four of them as he quickly swung the beaded barrel to the right in just under three seconds, only the dead lay waste after his act. He ducked back into cover as Mike popped out a moment later.

"Clear!" K'an announced as he came back into cover.

D'rok stood up from his position and glanced around down into the open area. There were no remaining Humans left to oppose. On the far right side of the room a trio of Sangheili stood. They wore nearly identical armor to what D'rok and K'an wore. Of the three the one who stood the tallest barked out in an alien tongue at the two. D'rok assumed that he was the leader of the other two. With a slight nod to them, D'rok led K'an as he climbed over the railing to the floor. The two approached the trio and as they did the leading one barked yet again at them. Obviously they did not understand. Suddenly one of the followers muttered something to the leader. 

"Do you understand now?" The follower asked suddenly in English. As he did, the leader looked over at him with an expression that could be considered synonymous to 'what the actual fuck?'

"Yes I understand you now" D'rok answered quickly as he lowered his weapon. The follower muttered something to the leader. The leader growled something in response.

"Why do you have difficulty in understanding our language?" The English speaker asked.

"We hit out heads pretty badly" D'rok started casually, in order to keep a con boiling. "I think I might be able to remember some of it." After the English speaker translated that to the leader the leader muttered a few things as he stared at D'rok. The two Sangheili had a quick conversation and a few growls and nods were exchanged.

"He says: 'very well' and for you two to follow us." The English speaker informed D'rok and K'an.

The leader and English speaker turned soon and began to walk through a door that lead to a corridor. As D'rok and K'an followed the other Sangheili who had been quiet followed behind. As they continued through the corridor the two in the front conversed quietly between each other. The tone of the leader's voice hinted that he was doubtful.

The English speaker turned his head backwards at D'rok suddenly. "How did you receive trauma to your being?" He questioned.

D'rok quickly thought of some reasoning. "We have been beaten, drugged, caged, and everything in between." He reasoned. "It happened somewhere along the way"

The English speaker relayed quickly with the leader. "How did you fall into the Human's clutch?"

"Well… We don't exactly remember the specifics… What I remember was a colony with Humans and a series of explosions nearby. I think we were helping troops." K'an answered before D'rok could, he was working the con well. "We woke here afterwards."

The English speaker translated that to the leader and they continued on with D'rok and K'an following without any more conversation. It wasn't more than a minute later that the group came to a circular opening that seemed to be opened to some sort of external craft. A large chunk slab of the hull seemed to be burnt out from the wall and laying on the floor. The English speaker and the leader lifted themselves up into the craft, the English speaker motioned them to as well. D'rok and K'an carefully did and were followed by the quiet one. The English speaker helped the two into a pair of wall harnesses and made sure they were locked in.

"What happens now?" K'an asked the English speaker as the others locked themselves into their own harnesses.

The English speaker asked the leader then quickly replied with "We don't know"

'Great…' D'rok thought '…and here we go again.'

With that last thought, the craft's door closed and launched itself from the hull. The cabin became dark as the craft pelted them all into space. The pod felt as if it was being pulled, and with a series of hisses and bumps over several moments, it was soon pulled into a tight hold. The doors opened, and the two were instructed to follow several other Sangheili who were waiting for them just outside of the pod.

For several hours, D'rok had sat silently in a box shaped room. In between the lengthy sessions with his eyelids closed, his eyes darted around the surface of the medium sized table in front of him. The Sangheili that had escorted K'an and himself straight to a holding room as soon as they stepped onto the alien ship. From then the two had received quite the large amount of lectures in alien languages from several individuals. Finally after that, they separated D'rok and K'an and now D'rok sat in this interrogation style room. 

D'rok shifted in the seat provided to the table space as the sound of a two piece conversation could be heard approaching. The door opened and a pair of Sangheili entered the room. One of them sat across the table from D'rok while the other took his place near the door. Both wore white armor. The one at the table looked out at D'rok and spoke a brief line of alien speech before he stopped, tilting his head, as he realized D'rok could not understand him.

"You do not speak your species' native tongue?" The sitting Sangheili asked.

"No, I don't" D'rok answered sincerely, causing the one by the door to huff in displeasure.

"Why not, I might ask?" The sitting one asked.

"It is from a bad case of amnesia that my friend and I suffered from."

"How did you two suffer the same?" he questioned.

"We both were captured by the Humans on their planet. We were both hit on the back of our heads with a blunt pipe."

"Regardless" The Sangheili gave an 'hmm' "We know not of who you two are and we wish to find out. Hold still." He then spat a line of speech to the other and the one by the door stepped out only to bring in a satchel. He handed it to the sitting Sangheili and returned to his leaning position.

The sitting Sangheili pulled out several devices. He laid them down next to a PDA style device and turned them all on after a moment. These devices were recording utilities, each of them recording one aspect of D'rok from his hand prints to as far as his teeth and jaw structure. It was quite displeasing to have to hold something built on mechanics and electrical components in his mouth for several moments, but he was not in a position to argue. After all of the devices had been used in some way, the sitting Sangheili looked at his PDA thing with an intrigued face. He turned and had a quick alien conversation with the other and then looked back at D'rok.

"It would seem as if you and your friend did not exist… How intriguing."

"What does that mean?" D'rok swallowed softly.

"You do not seem to be within our databases." There was a pause. "Let us go. We are relocating you." The sitting Sangheili now stood, motioning D'rok to as well.

D'rok stood wearily and slowly moved behind the Sangheili as he went to leave the room. He locked a quick stare with the one who leaned next to the door, the Sangheili gave him a slight smirk as D'rok passed. The leading one exited the room but just as D'rok was about to do the same the Sangheili behind him grabbed him by the rear of the collar on his armor and pulled him back. D'rok fell back from the sudden yank, his back landed against the metal floor; the collision of his armor gave a ringing clang.

D'rok looked back up to the one who had pulled him back to see him swinging down a metal baton of some kind at his face. The butt of the shaft smacked D'rok in the face, searing his vision to less than blurred and blackened. D'rok was moments from unconsciousness and he let a slow exhale out.

"Why would we throw the two in the extermination roster? I know some fine gentlemen that would purchase these two for quite a sum." One of them mentioned.

That was the last thing D'rok could audibly make out before going black.

~##~  
>End of Act I<p> 


	7. Act II Chapter I: 5 Minutes Alone

**SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ**

**Fate Twister (Redux Edition)**

Act II Chapter I

"5 Minutes Alone"

H.D. August 25th, 2528

It had been over two years since the two had been 'rescued' from the Humans that had held them. Ironically the Sangheili that had questioned them back on the ship had proved to be very quick to the underhanded way of person trafficking for profit. It was lucky for the pair as it gave them another chance of survival. The Sangheili officers held the two in secret until they had returned to the Sangheili's home planet, Sanghelios. Once there, the officers had sold the two off as of a lesser class to a coalition company that had a huge ore mining operation in an un-unionized zone near the equator of the planet. They have been working in the mines as excavators and machine operators in the sprawling mining community of Tallaham.

D'rok pulled back his two handed drill bit and held it idle, the invasive plasma based bit spun slowly as its drive eased from operating levels. He exhaled through the filters of his protective helmet and looked down through the green illuminated eye pieces at the drill, looking down at the clock on his drill. It was just about to be the end of his shift. As this was the case, he stepped to the left slightly and started the drill as he shoved it easily forward, widening his stance as he began to further operate. He spent a few moments chipping another layer of rock that he was working at. Just as he finished that layer another miner patted his shoulder to get his attention.

"Yeah?" D'rok asked loudly as he started to shut his drill down.

"Are you done for the shift, brother?" The Sangheili asked in his native tongue. His voice sounded through a radio filter.

"Yes I am. I was just now turning the drill off." D'rok answered as the drill shut off, he held the heavy drill at his side in his right hand.

"Very well, I am finished in a little while. Where do you think you can be found this evening?"

"I will most likely be with K'an at housing" D'rok paused, thinking "That is if he is not drunk!"

"Yes!" The miner gave a laugh "That much is true, brother! Very well. I shall see you later."

"Likewise. Now don't blow the cave up while I am not here. I don't want to miss any fireworks." D'rok joined him in laughter.

"Oh halt that talk! You jest. You leave before I do that exactly."

D'rok shook his head with a chuckle as he headed off for the exit of the cavern that they were working in and headed down the lengthy path towards the elevator to the surface. He dropped his drill off at his locker unit and entered the elevator. A few other miners joined him before the gate closed and the elevator began its slow ascent towards the surface.

Since the two had been there they have picked up the Sangheilian language as early as they could. They did their best to learn the way the Sangheili spoke as well as the culture and trivial norms and other things. If they were to survive they would need to blend into society perfectly. The language was not very hard to learn, as D'rok had always been a fairly competent learner of new languages and how they worked, how the words formed together and such, there were a few miners who spoke some English and were willing to help teach the two. If there was something K'an could not figure out, D'rok would help him and vice versa.

As for their current situation: Since they were sold to Win-Rok, a prominent ore mining company, they were to mine underground for ore with thousands of others beside them in unison. Win-Rok seemed to buy the services of either criminals, elderly, or sometimes even other species who were lower class. There was very little money to be made and what was made was usually swindled out of individuals by some backdoor means. The rate of crime was high in the community and there was even a prominent mafia-esc underground power, known as the Bloodfist Clan, who controlled and highly influenced the immediate established area. They, however, were not a force to trifle with.

The elevator came to a slow grinding halt as it reached the surface. The doors opened and D'rok joined the flow of miners who all had just finished their shifts. A quick gust of wind kicked up sand and blasted along the small crowd leaving the elevator; D'rok held a covered arm and hand to help keep the sand from buffering against his helmet and mask. Their work uniforms and equipment were fitted to take the sandblasting, however even the best prepped material will wear from exposure. Having a tear or being uncovered from the buffeting sands in these parts could be medically devastating. D'rok exhaled as the gust lessened and the hot sun fell onto his uniform and harness, adding a sudden and nearly stifling sense of heat from the cold underground climate his body had grown to during the shift.

The group dispersed as the miners broke off evenly to go about their paths to whichever office or time punch station they needed to be. D'rok walked briskly between moving equipment and mobile machinery as he headed across the large flat that served as the current operation yard for the mine's machinery and large scale drills. Several more gusts of sand filled wind kicked up before D'rok had made it to the entrance of his punch card office. There were several different punch card stations snuggled in the line of buildings that served as somewhat of a wall between the operating yard and parking and transport stations which were beyond the other side of the buildings. Once he reached his punch card station, a fellow miner held the door open for him briefly and left him to close the door. D'rok pulled his mask off carefully, flexing his mandible muscles as he did, and clipped it to his belt before entering the office that the entrance way was connected too. Inside the office was a pair of desks that were built in the shape of 'L's, behind one of them was a middle aged female Sangheili.

"Good afternoon, Mayia" D'rok began as he approached the desk.

"Hello…" The female looked up at him with hazel eyes from a data pad, her hand still lightly clasped over her shirt neckline that covered her breasts. "You are looking for your punch card, D'rok?"

"Yes I am, lovely miss." D'rok answered in a soothing and kind voice.

"Give me a moment please, D'rok" Mayia set her datapad down and reached over into a folder on her desk. After a moment of flipping through the contents she pulled out a thin, metallic sheet. "Here you go, D'rok. I'll see you tomorrow." She gave an attractive smile as she held the sheet towards him.

"Likewise."

D'rok took the sheet from her and looked down at the orange holographic charts and information that was being portrayed on the flat metallic surface. He moved towards the rear exit of the building as he looked over his coming shifts and accumulated hours for this week. He stopped before exiting the building to put the sheet against the punch-in scanner and also to put his mask back on. After he exited the building, and also after being met but yet another sandy gust, he walked across the parking area towards the nearest transport station where a small fleet of ground based transport crafts waited for departure.

He entered the one of the nearest transports that was heading towards the housing complexes. Each transport, known as the outdated Vena-class transport, was lengthy, similar to a bus, sitting upon a set of eight large deep tread tires. The transports were each approximately 12 feet in height and 50 feet in length and were a dull gray color. The paint of each was scraped and buffered from the natural sandy winds. He had to duck his head slightly as he entered the dimly lit enclosed cabin through an opening under a hatch that was lifted vertically from the hull for entry. Inside were several other miners who sat with their backs against the hull of the Crawler on the bench seats. There was not much room inside of them for more than two rows of people down the either side of the Crawler. He took a seat towards the middle of the vehicle, slouching slightly as he rested himself in the first seat he had used that day. It wasn't before long for the transport to start rolling along towards its destination. D'rok further rested his back against the interior hull and tried his best to get comfortable. The ride was not overly horrid, however it was just so lengthy to be of a mild annoyance. The crawlers slowed to an abrupt stop; some of the miners who had fallen asleep during the ride slightly scrambled as they readied themselves for exit. D'rok was one of the first to exit the crawler as he was the last to get on before it departed.

D'rok stepped down onto the packed sand as he exited the transport. There was no gust of sudden wind to meet him as he left the safeness of the wheeled metal box. There was, however an open area that served as the transport station. It was enclosed by some buildings and a large metal wall. D'rok moved away from the transport as more miners exited the hatch and dispersed among the station lot in multiple directions. D'rok moved along the crowd for a bit and went his own path as he entered a street that branched off of the lot. The street was fairly busy, there were numerous groups of people who stood around the fronts of the taverns and little run down shops that ran along both sides of the street. The street was darkened by the lack of sunlight; the suns were setting and the only illumination was the glow of the neon-esc lights on the cement walls and the occasional lighting from an open store. D'rok passed a tavern as some unruly Kig Yar was tossed out the front door, a shattering of glass ringing out from inside just before. He ignored events like that; stuff like that always happened here in the town.

This was the town of Tallaham. It was actually more of the size of a settlement, with only having a few streets of housing, a couple of bars and shops, and a transport station. There was no paved or stoned path within the settlement; only packed sand and the occasional cement sidewalk which were found closest to the transport station. For the most part the settlement was mostly cool as the angle and the narrowness of the streets prevented a good portion of direct sunlight from heating the streets with the exception of perfect midday. Nothing here was in well condition; the cement lay set, cracked and crumbling; the walls of the buildings stand firm, yet covered in graffiti and porous from time. There was hardly any sand blasting damage there as the settlement was snuggled within a large metal wall that stood at the height of nearly 40 feet.

As secure as it sounds, the place held a similar overbearing sense of a facilitated keep.

After making his way down several narrow streets and neon lit districts, D'rok turned into a set of two doors that opened to a group of housing settlements. He opened and entered the one that lead to a staircase to the second of two floors of apartments. At the top of the stairs was a mid sized hallway that continued inward. D'rok walked down this hallway, passing by the many numbered doors of tenants on either side, until he reached his room. With a quick fumble of his keys, the metallic door opened and he entered into his living space. Inside was a small kitchen and a living room split by a walkway that lead to the bedroom. A table rested with two chairs closely to the couch that opposed an outdated holographic television display against the opposite wall.

D'rok dropped his things at beside the doorway and fell back onto his couch. He gave a sigh as he looked down to the little end table next to the arm of the couch. On the table sat several empty bottles of alcohol. One had hardly been drank from, the large blue colored glass bottle still held most of the original content. He lightly picked the bottle up, sighing, and he drank from it. His eyes closed slightly as the fermented liquid washed down his throat; it was room temperature and somehow still a bit carbonated. As he continued to sip the warm beer he sat there thinking quietly of previous events as he usually did.

He quickly found his head growing heavy as he began to slip in his consciousness. He nodded off just as he had a thought about the long work days being tiring. There was not much he would dream of. The small list mostly consisted of dreams of his human experiences. Sometimes he would dream of when he was a child where he would help his father work on classic era cars. Sometimes he would dream of his mother's cooking or school events. However more often than not he would dream about Morgan. He missed her terribly, although he knew he couldn't let that pain drag him down. He had to try to move on, knowing very well that he would not see her again. She would have wanted him too. It would be the best for both him and K'an.

D'rok was abruptly awoken by his data pad from across the room. With a groan he got himself up and went to check the data pad. On the screen was a message from the owner of one of the local taverns in town. The message of the owner was that K'an was, once again, 'making allies' at his bar.

D'rok cursed under his breath and set the data pad down. He went into one of the cabinets near the couch. From it he pulled a Type-52 'Mauler' pistol and two disk style magazines for the weapon. He took one of the disks and slid it upward into the magazine bay until a click sounded. He set the weapon down on the cabinet and quickly changed from his work clothes to more casual wear. He attached a holster on his side that was disguised as a tool bag and slid the weapon into it. It was a necessary disguise as projectile based weapons were outlawed in Tallaham. The pistol fired a compressed bunch of heated metal that would spread like a shotgun upon exit of the barrel. It was a Jiralhanae weapon, so it was more primitive than the elegant plasma weapons of the Sangheili, however it costed less to smuggle into the town. It was in itself a costly purchase, but a worthy one at that.

D'rok quickly made his way towards the bar from the housing complexes. It was now the late evening and the town was dark. Music could be heard and small groups of miners stood around the streets near the night activities that commonly happened. His pace was swift, his fists clenched and with a tense form. He received several nervous looks from the standing groups along the path. D'rok had learned early off how present himself as intimidating. Even as early to when he used to be human he learned this. In turn for the act he would not be bothered with. He soon arrived at the bar that he was told that K'an was. He stopped for a moment to let his angered mandibles flare until he tightened them as he enter and He slipped past a drunkard stumbling out of the wide entrance. D'rok headed right over to the bartender.

"Where is he?" D'rok asked the bartender.

"Over there" the tender pointed to a corner in the back. "I don't want any unrest here, D'rok."

"I'll do my best." D'rok growled as he turned to the table.

Over to the corner where K'an sat. K'an had his back to the corner and was clearly intoxicated. In front of him were four Sangheili who stood around the table in a fashion to somewhat block full view of what was going on. They were marked with the Bloodfist Clan insignia. D'rok placed the leader of the group and identified what they were carrying. Two had knifes, one being the leader and one to the left of K'an, and another on the right had a Type-25 "Spiker" rifle on his hip.

D'rok began to approach the table. He could hear the conversation over the noise of the bar. They were discussing K'an's debts. As D'rok drew closer to the table, he slipped several credits on an occupied table as he grabbed a large bottle of alcohol from them while passing. Gripping the bottle at the neck in his left hand he shouted at the group surrounding K'an. As the leader turned counter clockwise D'rok swung his arm backwards at him, violently smashing the bottle over the leaders cheek. The leader recoiled, turning to fall onto the table K'an sat at. One that stood nearest to the leader turned to face D'rok. He was not fast enough to D'rok's right fist as it plowed into his nose. The strike dropped the Sangheili like a brick. D'rok watched the one with the Spiker struggle with his holster. Drink drew his Mauler and sent a shot into his chest as he was just pulling the Spiker out of the holster. The shot Sangheili fell back against the wall behind him from the force of the shot. D'rok fired once again. The spread of metal bursted his chest open straight through the bones to his innards. D'rok turned the gun to the last Sangheili standing, aiming it at his head. He seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Leave!" D'rok yelled at the Sangheili who still stood. The Sangheili ran for the door, scurrying like a fleeing animal.

D'rok turned to the leader who was leaning against one of the chairs. He was clutching his face. His blood ran down his arm and dripped from his jaw, mixing with the strong bourbon that had soaked into the wounds on his face. D'rok gripped the large Sangheili by the shirt and hefted him to his feet. D'rok then gripped him by the neck and shoved him hard against a pillar of the bar. The Sangheili struggled to breathe with D'rok's fingers pressed into his neck.

"I want you to tell the people you work for that the debt for K'an is finished. You will no longer bother him about it." Drok growled in the face of the Sangheili before shoving him away towards the front of the bar.

"You will be slain for your actions! Metirchi will make sure of that!" The Sangheili shouted highly of his boss.

D'rok's lip curled."You give me five minutes alone with that punk and I'll kick his ass!" He snarled as he instinctively showed his teeth.

"I'll be sure to send him your yield." The D'rok shoved the off and watched the Sangheili quickly leave the bar.

At this point the entire place was quiet, all of the customers stood watching D'rok after the violent altercation had unfolded. D'rok looked down at all of the blood, glass, and liquor that had been thrown across the floor in a grand mess. He turned as the rest of the bar started to return to it's previous notions and then he stepped over the legs of the dead Sangheili. K'an was still at the table he sat at before, only now he was unconscious. This position for him was not uncommon as of late, as he was constantly drinking himself to oblivion. With a sigh of annoyance, D'rok gripped K'an after placing his weapon back in its holster and lifted him to his shoulder. He shook his head and began towards the door.

"Sorry about the mess" D'rok exhaled as he tossed several credits to the bartender. "It won't happen again."

D'rok continued to the door of the tavern, occasionally brushing past drunken miners who were stumbling to their seats after the commotion had taken place. After he left the building he paused on the sidewalk to adjust his shoulder to better bare the weight of K'an before continuing onto the housing complexes. D'rok stuck close to the well illuminated and decently busy streets; even if it was a longer walk, it was better than getting jumped by the Bloodfist clan. Despite the paranoia involved with dealing in such travels, it was all but necessary as the clan was fairly prominent in the area. He received many second looks from the people he had passed. The looks were quick to look elsewhere to not draw attention to themselves.

Soon, however, he was fumbling with his keys to open his housing unit. Once the door had opened, he entered the room and quickly set K'an on the couch. He then stood from the couch and quickly sealed the door tightly. D'rok sighed heavily, pacing in front of his kitchen area. with a frustrated growl, he sat heavily onto the chair at the kitchen table. The chair shifted under his weight and he set his Mauler on the table next to him. He sat there for a while just contemplating about how to act on this mess that was quickly spun up for the two. The Bloodfist clan would definitely set up a retaliation. Even with the fact that D'rok had worked with the clan's leadership for a few side jobs, he never had directly got involved with their work and trifled with their deeds. He couldn't have just let them hurt K'an though, that was a definite.

K'an woke up hours later with a groan, causing D'rok to look up from his palms that his face rested in.

"Wh...where am I?" K'an gurgled from the couch.

"You are on my couch, K'an." D'rok answered. K'an's face seemed to grimace.

"Oh. Of course I would be here" K'an growled; the two still had that feuding rivalry.

"You are better off than where you were."

"Oh I bet I am." K'an sighed in a displeased manner.

"Come on…" D'rok sighed. "I just saved you from a mess."

"I did not need any saving" K'an spat back at D'rok.

"Are you joking me?"

"Of course not!" K'an sat up on the couch

"You were drunk off your ass-"

"So what! I don't need your help" K'an glared.

"Oh for fuck sakes cut that shit out!" D'rok yelled, taking a stand from his seat. "It has been two fucking years, man! Ever since that fight you have been constantly bitter for what I said." D'rok's nostrils flared "I'm sorry! I always have been."

"That does not help-" K'an tried to cut it.

"Of course not! It won't, either!" D'rok's hands went into the air in frustration. "It also doesn't help that you're ending a relationship because of one five minute fight during the most traumatic events either of us have gone through." D'rok had stood there staring back, his mandibles flaring with adrenaline. "Enough of this. You need to grow the fuck up!"

K'an watched D'rok's emotion from where he sat quietly. His mandibles twitched slightly as he was about to retort, however his mouth closed and he looked down considering the facts. He exhaled softly before looking back up apathetically at D'rok.

"You're right… I'm sorry." K'an quietly admitted.

"Thank you… Finally." D'rok approached him and sat next to him on the couch beside him.

"Well… ok…" K'an sighed again. "Now that the friendly girl bullshit is over… what the fuck now?" K'an looked to D'rok.

"I don't know…" D'rok paused. "I have not thought of anything yet."

"That is just dandy. I will start digging graves for us now" K'an smiled slightly, as some of the tension was gone.

"No. We just have to stay on our toes." D'rok answered.

"Oh? What the fuck are we going to do? Cut them in on our cookie selling profits?"

"No." D'rok stood from the couch chuckling.

"No?! Why not?" K'an asked jestingly as D'rok left the room temporarily. "It could work! It is a valid business venture!"

"Again… No" D'rok said as he reentered the room.

"But why?" K'an looked.

"Because…" D'rok tossed a energy dagger hilt to K'an, in which he caught. "The cookies are ours to keep." D'rok smiled.

H.D. August 27th, 2527

D'rok and K'an were back to work on the mines. Nothing had happened with the Bloodfist clan the day before; D'rok had noted this, as he and K'an were paying very close attention to their surroundings. Surprisingly there was no suspicious activities from the norm of the working community. The Bloodfists had not attempted to poison, or crush, or explode the two. To D'rok this meant they either decided it was not worth of a task, or they were planning something big. The latter was not wanted by either of the two.

Despite them wanting to just hide it out or run, they had to continue working. There really wasn't much they could do as they were under constant watch and the checkpoints to leave would never open for the workers as they were technically 'owned' as property by Win-rok. So for the time being, the two were working the day away. Given the chance, the two would make a break for it. They would head north as it was told that some of the northern states were very forgiving in their laws and legislation. The problem was getting out of the facilities.

As the norm usually was, D'rok was down in one of the mines that he was assigned to for that day. He held his Plasmite drill with both arms flexed, fists balled fiercely on the two handles attached to rear half that was the drill's engine. The frontwards end of the drill was illuminated by the several beams of plasma that projected out to a point several inches in front of the end of the drill. How it worked was at the point of collision of all of the beams any solid material would disintegrate. The beams, as programmed by the control module at the handle end, were designed to smartly disintegrate everything but valuable material. This allowed for no useful material to be wasted and it would come out as a pure clump like it naturally preserved in the rock around it. Once the stone around the mineral was disintegrated, the material would be pulled to the front tip of the drill inside of the plasma beams that would cage around it. There it would hover and spin slowly, taking heat from the beams and slowly melting into a spherical shape. Once the sphere of material would reach a certain size, the beams would shut off until the user released the sphere into a cart. D'rok continued through the motions of drilling.

D'rok looked over quickly at his common drilling partner, the one who he always worked with it seemed, who was moving a full mineral cart to make room for another. The two made temporary eye contact, and nodded to each other. This was just to make sure that everyone was ok, as it was difficult to hear over the drill at times. D'rok adjusted himself and went back to drilling. Several moments passed, the drill heavily vibrating in his hands, when the ear-piece connected to the local frequency buzzed.

"What are you doing down here?" The voice of his mining partner asked through a soft buzz of static.

D'rok began to slow the drill down to an idle until he noticed a bright flash of green illuminate the wall in front of him. D'rok looked back quickly as the sounds of struggle began. In the middle of the cave segment that D'rok was working was a Sangheili wrestling with his mining partner. He noticed that the Sangheili was not uniformed to work with Win-rok; he in fact wore the Bloodfist clan mark on his shoulder. The intruder held an overheated Type – 25 Plasma Pistol in one hand and with the other he was fighting off D'rok's partner. His partner was gravely injured, his torso was a melting mess down to the bone after receiving an overcharged plasma bolt to the chest. The injured worker fell to the floor quickly in agony at the attacker's hooves. D'rok and he made eye contact.

The Bloodfist member snarled and took a step back from D'rok, trying to prepare for a brawl. D'rok skipped a beat and turned on his heel to lunge at the clansman. He gave a adrenalized yell as he brought the butt of the drill to the clansman's sternum. The clansman struggled against D'rok's sudden speed and fired the now cooled pistol in vain. The shots missed and hit the floor of the cave as the drill made contact. The clansman recoiled and fell against a mineral cart behind him. D'rok continued his charge and shoved his shoulder into the clansman's gut, causing him to further fall back onto the cart. D'rok turned himself to the clansman as he struggled to get up from the cart. D'rok started to run the drill again, this time the front end was pointed at the attacker. Before the Clansman could react, D'rok drove the drill forward as the motor began to spin. The drill's tip made contact with the clansman's belly and began to very quickly disintegrate his flesh. It was not a very messy process until the bit began to sink into his innards. Through the clansman's screams, the drill only slowed very slightly as it began to chip away at his ribcage. D'rok continued the lifting motion of the drill as it continued eating through the clansman and he did not stop until the clansman's futile screams and resistance ceased. D'rok stopped the drill and pulled it back, letting the body of the clansman slide to where it would sit against the mineral cart.

"Huh" D'rok hummed as he stood over the body. "Don't get up" he chuckled and dropped the hefty drill onto the bleeding corpse.

D'rok retrieved the Plasma pistol that now lay nearby on the ground before he began to move for the chamber exit. He stopped briefly to look over his dead mining partner who was melting still from the plasma. He shook his head and tightened the grip on the pistol, grimacing the death of a commoner. With a sigh D'rok left the and started to make his way to the surface elevator

He needed to get to K'an. The guy clansman was sent here to kill D'rok, and it would be highly likely that K'an would also be targeted. After receiving several nervous, unsure looks of fellow miners he passed, he entered the elevator and began to ascend to the surface as the gates closed on the elevator. The ride seemed longer than usual, as if it was stretched by situational pressure. D'rok was on edge, as he should be, but he tried to calm himself bye fiddling with the heat duct on the Plasma Pistol. The gates opened as the elevator stopped, D'rok let the heat duct close on the pistol before exiting.

D'rok took the pistol in both hands and held it downward to his side as he broke into a jog out of the elevator. He needed to quickly get to K'an; his life was at stake. It was probably good that he made haste, slipping and dodging passed several shocked workers, as he broke around a corner into the heavy mechanics sector that K'an worked in. K'an was standing besides his machine with his hands up open in front of him as if to argue innocence or a plea. In front of him were several members of the Bloodfist who had weapons to K'an. A darkened wheeled truck sat close behind the group of clansmen. D'rok snapped into action once again and sprinted the distance. It was a stretch, but there was not much he could do with a single plasma pistol, As he rushed towards them, D'rok lifted a metal hammer from the top of the tracks of a machine on the way.

Surprisingly the group had not noticed D'rok barreling towards them, they probably were too entertained and arrogant towards their current prey. D'rok lunged at the nearest clansman with the hammer, cracking the bastard against his head. A loud crunch rang out, as his skull was simply crushed in by the hammer. The others in the group flinched at the new attack, the several furthest in the group fled to cover while three stood flustered. The nearest one began to turn his Spiker on D'rok; however, his forearm was met with a swinging hammer that snapped the two bones in the forearm. D'rok took the Spiker in the same motion after letting go of the Plasma pistol. The injured clansman fell to the dirt holding his snapped forearm and D'rok quickly used the newly acquired Spiker to fire point blank at the two that still stood frozen. Those two quickly fell to the onslaught of spike projectiles.

"D'rok?!" K'an yelled through his environment filter after his overtaking of the situation.

"What?!" D'rok asked as he ducked against the side of the nearby truck as the clansman who ran to cover began to fire back at D'rok.

"What are you doing?" K'an ducked from the shots against his machine.

"Are you serious?!" D'rok yelled as he raised the Spiker to fire back at the Clansmen. "Shut up and get in the fucking truck!"

K'an shut his mouth and quickly slid around the truck and got into the passenger side of the vehicle. D'rok continued to exchange shots until the Spiker clicked at the end of the magazine. He then quickly opened the driver side door and slid in. He frantically fumbled with the keys that were in the ignition as a few Spiker bolts flew through the back window of the truck. The truck started and he shifted the vehicle into drive and stamped the pedal to the floor. The truck's big tires spun madly against the packed sand; a dual spray of sand was thrown behind the truck as it lurched forward, gaining speed. Several more bolts flew through the windows of the vehicle as D'rok struggled to drive the truck without any massive collisions.

D'rok slid the vehicle out of the heavy mechanics sector and into the operation yard. He found himself fishtailing the truck in order to avoid several batches of workers who were changing locations and shifts. It was a high traffic as it was the center of operation. The truck bounced around, shaking D'rok and K'an up badly in the cabin, as it struggled to stay in forward motion over the low traction of sand. Soon after several frantic moments the truck was out of the thick of people and picking up speed for one of the several Win-Rok checkpoints that led directly out into the open desert around the compound. This one was used for machinery to pass through and was guarded by a checkpoint with a crossing bar that hang positions across the lane get out.

"Hold on" D'rok warned K'an as the truck's tires hit the short lane of cement before the checkpoint.

The truck lurched with sudden grip and began to accelerate towards the checkpoint. The two braced for impact just before the front of the truck plowed through the crossing bar. The crossing bar bent harshly to the side and the truck somewhat slipped into a bit of a power slide from the collision. D'rok brought the vehicle under control and followed the cement until it ended and then he turned onto the next northbound sand trail. There possibly would be some chase from either Win-Rok or the Bloodfist, but it did not matter. They were heading to the North and hopefully away from the hellhole that had claimed their lives for over two years.


	8. Act II Chapter II: Fresh Start

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ

Fate Twister (Redux Edition)

Act II Chapter II

"Fresh Start"

H.D. 10:25am September 9th, 2528

D'rok looked out beyond the bow of an aged ocean ferry. His stiffened against the railing as a gust of cool air breezed against him and the ship. His fist stayed clenched in the pockets of his heavy jacket. His body had grown conditioned to the harsh climate of the equator of the planet. The two were traveling as north as they could get with the money that D'rok and K'an had in their pockets after the Bloodfist incident. The truck that they had 'borrowed' from the Clan had been left on the southern ridge of the Ocean of Kar'un. From there the two had bought two ferry tickets to the northern city of Varo in the state of Zelso. The ferry was close to arrival to the city, the reflections of the suns bounced from the windows of a distant skyline. K'an soon joined D'rok's side near the railing.

"Do you think they will follow us?" K'an asked leaning closer.

"They might." D'rok paused "I think this far north is probably way beyond their influence."

"I hope your right, D'rok." K'an sighed.

A short while later the ferry began to slow into the docks of Varo. The harbor the ferry had passed through was busy and full of fishing and freight traffic. The two waited until the crew had secured the boat to the dock and lowered the ramp for the passengers to exit. The two left ahead of the small crowd that rode along on the ferry. Apparently this was a small crowd for such a trip, however D'rok had a feeling this was due to the season. The two soon approached a customs office. Inside the small window was a small female in a low tech, cloth body suit, with armor strapped to her body.

"Hello, miss." D'rok smiled to her, stepping forward to the window

The small female looked up from her computer terminal. "What can I help you with?"

"This is our first time visiting here. We are heading north to look for residence."

The female sighed. "Are you declaring refugee status?"

"I'm not sure, miss. Please explain." D'rok raised an eyebrow.

She pressed some buttons on her console. "Refugee from an unincorporated area or unpopular slash oppressive state."

"In that case, yes. Yes we are." D'rok answered.

"Alright. Let us start with some basics then. My assistant will take your friend into the other room to be interviewed, follow me." She stood and motioned toward a door.

D'rok stood from his chair and followed her into another office in which he was told to do.

"Alright." D'rok smiled as he sat.

"What is your name?" She asked, after sitting in the chair across the table.

"D'rok Tallaham." He answered.

"What is your age?"

"I am 27 years old"

She typed the information into her data-pad. "Where did you depart from, Tallaham?"

"My companion and I left a few days ago from an un-unionized zone near the equator of Sangheilos"

"And what section of the un-unionized zone was it in?" She placed a map up on the table.

D'rok looked down at the map and pointed at the general area in which he and K'an had worked. "Right around here." He paused "It was in Win'rok's operating region."

"Hmm, what skills do you possess?"

"Manual labor, personnel management…" D'rok paused "Communication and machine operation." He gave a short list.

"What events transpired to lead you to come to the great State of Zelso? We will be cross referencing your explanation with your companions."

"Both of us had quit our job. Since it not a friendly community we decided to travel north."

"Very well… Where were you born?"

"I was born on a slave ship that ran between the colonies."

"A slave ship? Do you remember its name?"

"No."

"Understood, what were your parent's names?"

"I do not remember them. I am an orphaned"

"Then where did your name come from, what happened to your parents?"

"My name was self-adopted from a village name near where I used to work." D'rok paused to look down. "And my parents? My father was a slave and my mother was a whore on the ships."

"When did they die, and how?" She asked.

"I do not know exactly"

"Sorry, these are just basic questions. How did you travel here? Again, we will cross-reference with your friend."

"We drove up from the equator to a town I believe was called Veno. From there we got onto the ferry."

"Alright, Mr. Tallaham, do you mind if we do some blood tests?" She placed the documents she was working on into a stack under the data-pad.

"Not at all, miss. Just direct me in what to do."

"Just follow the red line down the hall, hand them this" A strip of paper prints out of her data-pad, and she hands it to him. "After the process is approved, you will be sent to a holding room and then issued a temporary pass, in which you are required to find a job within a month. Only then will you be granted residency."

"Ok, thanks. Have a nice day." He smiled too her

D'rok took the print and stood with it. He began to head towards the doorway until he exited the room. He followed the appropriate directions to the appropriate office the bloodwork and records were finished in there and were mildly pain free. He then waited for K'an to finish up his line of questions and record making. Once K'an joined him they stepped out of the building and back into the street. As they stepped into the street, they stopped for a moment to find the signs that would point them towards the temporary housing facility.

"So that is it?" K'an asked as the pair began to walk.

"I guess." D'rok sighed.

"That was easy…"

"About time, too."

"About time for what?" K'an perked his head up as he looked over at D'rok.

"It's about time for something to work out for us."

"Well…" K'an thought. "It has been quite a long time I guess"

D'rok chuckled. "Exactly."

The two continued to walk along the aged concrete that lay as the harbor. They were passing a large port that housed a large damaged ship that floated in the quay. The ship was old, as if it had not been used in a very long time, and vegetation had begun to take over. Its hull had been cracked along the side and a bridge that lead into the crack. At the end of the pier it looked as if there was several vehicles together. This was most likely a club or a crime hangout as D'rok figured it. The two decided to leave it be and began to pass the water based cargo ship.

After a while the pair arrived at the temporary housing. There was, to their surprise, very few people around and inside of the housing complex. For what it was it seemed a bit regal for the purpose. The place was built like a five star hotel. Most of the housing complex was built on waxed floors and green colored fancy carpet. It was quite a step up from the shitty places that the workers were given in Tallaham. The two quickly got checked in and walked along the large empty halls as they headed for their room. The building was quite large and well heated, which was greatly appreciated as the long ferry ride to Varo was very windy and chilling. Soon the two found their room on the second floor, D'rok sliding a key card into the slot for it in the door. He then opened the door and took a step in before looking around. Again, the two quested the regal stature of the housing; perhaps they had been mistaken for more important people. It was in fact that they were directed here.

"Whoa…" K'an admired. "Who the fuck do these people think we are?"

"I don't know…" D'rok answered as he looked around at the high wellness of the luxurious room while taking a few more steps room.

K'an stepped in after D'rok had moved from the door and began to immediately check out whatever the room held inside. While D'rok had barely gotten to the middle of the living room of the place, K'an had already made it through the living room, the small kitchen area, the bedroom, and was now running the sink in the bathroom. A few moments later he stepped out of the bathroom to face D'rok. K'an stood leaning against the wall with his arms folded, in hand he held a decorative drinking glass filled one with water from the sink. He took a drink with his lower, secondary index finger held out.

"You see:" K'an began with a posh British impersonation. "When you're a member of the billionaire's club, you only drink your water from the finest glassware" One of his eyebrows were raised as he said this. In response to this D'rok just rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Ah yes…" K'an continued as he swirled the water in the glass. "…The common man stumbling on the fancy manners of the well-off class. This is Aster Clement; suffocating on your world as I see it." K'an chuckled before sipped again after pointing at D'rok in deep reference.

"Yeah? Ok, Varney" D'rok chuckled deeply.

"Oh, would you rather Larry The Cable Guy?" K'an asked laughing as he stood from the wall.

"No, please." D'rok sat into a chair and rubbed his eyes grudgingly. "I hate that fat redneck."

K'an laughed loudly at D'rok's answer and seemed to enjoy the quick spurt of references from their past Human life. K'an got D'rok a glass of water as he filled his own then joined him in the living room. For quite a while afterwards the two continued on the session of reminiscing on whatever they could remember. Sure, it had only been two years since they were Human, but that was enough as they had been working their existence away. The time conversing began to slow down as the humorous topics faded away.

"Hey… Hey D'rok?" K'an asked, resting back heavily in his chair.

"What?"

"Do you remember any concerts from back home?" K'an asked in a soft voice as his throat was beginning to sore from the constant laughing.

"Well..." D'rok looked up to the ceiling thoughtfully. "There was one…" He paused as he collected the details. "Dad took me to a concert in Las Vegas in the summer of 2001. I was only 11 at the time."

"Who played the show?" K'an asked smiling.

"If I remember correctly it was Pantera, Slayer, Morbid Angel, and Static - X… there was an opening act but I don't remember them too much…"

"Well?" K'an pressed.

"Hmm?" D'rok glanced over.

"How was it?"

"I don't really remember. I did like it though." D'rok answered softly. 

"That is funny…" K'an chuckled before pausing awkwardly at the failed topic. "I am hungry…"

"Well, what are we going to do? We are out of money." D'rok pointed out.

"There was a restaurant thing down passed the lobby. We could check that out."

"Yeah... Maybe" D'rok stood "come on. Let's go."

K'an got up and happily follows D'rok downstairs. The two walked to the lobby and then into the restaurant. There were many booths open for staying and a few waitresses bopping around taking orders and delivering food. They were seated in a booth bye a middle aged waitress; she was several years older than them. She gave a smile and pulled out a little holographic note sheet to take the order.

"What can I get for you two gentlemen for drinks?" She asked politely.

"Water, please" D'rok answered and K'an gave a nod, he would have water too.

"Ok… Do you two know what you wish to order?" The waitress asked.

"Well…" D'rok chuckled "Anything cheap. We do not have hardly anything." He admitted to her.

"Oh? We cannot have you two travelers hungry can we? I will get you two orders of Vamna Hazal with sides of Alka. I will cover it." She smiled as she flipped her pad away.

"Thank you very much" D'rok smiled.

"Do not worry of it." She said as she began to walk away with a wave.

K'an's eyes watched the waitress as she walked passed D'rok and into the kitchen. A smile grew across his mandibles as he did. D'rok noticed what he was doing and gave a heavy sigh. K'an looked back to D'rok as the waitress disappeared behind the counter

"Are you kidding me?" D'rok raised an eyebrow as he called K'an out.

"What?"

"She covers our food and you stare at her ass?" D'rok asked to clarify quietly.

"She only covered our food because I am a sexy beast." K'an chuckled as he rubbed his neck.

"Pttf…" D'rok shook his head "Whatever, man." the two chuckled together at this. It was good to be on the good side of things again.

Soon the waitress returned with two large plates with their orders on them. She set them down on the table, telling them to enjoy it and to get her if they needed anything. The two plates had the orders of Vamna Hazal with a side of Akla, which was the Sangheili version of a patty melt with glorified buttered mash potatoes. The two quickly dug into the food. It was very good to they're hopes; the meat was dripping with fatty juices laced with delicious spices and the Akla was seasoned finely to create a flavorful brownish puree. Even the toast that the meat was held by was glazed with some butter that held a faint tint of a garlic-esc herb. As they finished their meals that they chomped away at the waitress returned.

"Here you two go." She said as she laid a 'paid' receipt on the table. "Have a nice stay and good luck doing whatever you will be doing." She smiled and went to return back to the restaurant's kitchen.

"Miss?" K'an called after the waiter, stopping her.

"Yes?" She asked with a smile.

"Can I get your number?"

D'rok face palmed.

H.D. 6:15am September 10th, 2528

D'rok had woken up a little bit ago as he always did. Six every morning is something that he had just happen to do since probably the first day of his 10th grade of high school. There really wasn't a big reason for it despite how useful it was for him through his entire adult life. He never figured it out passed it just being his biological clock. As soon as he had woken up he had gotten out of bed to do a basic routine of exercises; he used this daily to help himself to being well rounded in the physical sense.

D'rok stood from the floor of the living room and soon did a series of cool down stretches. After that he went into the small kitchen area to start making some coffee for K'an and himself. He threw the grounds into the filter compartment and pressed a few buttons, causing the coffee maker to give a happy 'good morning' beep before the sounds of coffee making began to fill the room. Soon K'an came out of the bedroom and went into the bathroom without closing the door. D'rok rolled his eyes and leaned forward into the counter that the coffee maker was creating the morning wonder that was coffee.

"So…" K'an started as he returned from the bathroom. "What is on the schedule today, commander?" he rubbed his side as he asked.

"We are going to go into the city and try to find some sort of work." D'rok sighed as he watched the coffee process continue.

"Oh goodie! I love to work!" K'an beamed.

"We need to start again, K'an."

"I know… I am just being a dick." K'an admitted.

"I figured." D'rok said softly as the coffee creation was almost complete. "Did you wash your hands?" D'rok looked over finally at K'an with a raised eyebrow.

"_Did you wash your hands?_" K'an mocked in a high pitched voice as he rolled his eyes. "No I did not, mom."

"That is commander mom to you!" The two gave a short burst into lowly laughter before they grew to a more serious tone.

"Where are we going to go exactly?" K'an decided to ask.

"We are going to go down to the lobby and see where the nearest bus line or train or taxi service is." D'rok began as he pulled the pot of coffee out of the maker just as it was finished. "Then we head into the city and look around for work."

"Do you know where to go for that?"

"Fuck no! K'an, you know that." D'rok poured the coffee into two cups. "It can't be that bad though. I hear that this place is huge with industry, so there has to be something."

"I guess…" K'an took one of the two cups of coffee and blew on it.

"We will finish this coffee pot off and then we will head out."

Soon the two had finished their coffee and were locked the door of their room as they left. They took a quick trip down several flights of stairs down to the lobby of the hotel-esc building. They asked a few questions to the nice ladies behind the check in desk and found that the Varo Public Transport made stops at the housing complexes. After a short wait besides the vehicle lane, a bus stopped near them; a display on the front and side of the transport read 'The Hub' as the destination. The bus looked like it belonged to the same line as the Type - 29 Shadow carriage. The notable difference was that the enclosed sides were wider than the military counterpart.

The two entered the vertically folding doors of the transit and took a seat awkwardly towards the rear of the bus. D'rok had inquired about paying for bus tickets and was informed that the all public transportation was covered through the city of Varo. D'rok sat quietly next to K'an and waited for the bus to start to move. The bus took off and continue its route and headed northwest to the slight outline of a city in the morning fog. The bus continued on downhill from the housing area and went over a river before taking a road that led into a tunnel. After traveling for some time in the well illuminated tunnel, the bus emerged into an underground hangar like room. A map on the inside of the bus lit up labeling this place as "The Hub".

The bus soon came to a stop and the two got out and found route map to find a bus that was going into the markets of Varo. After a brief fit of friendly arguing, the two found the appropriate bus and entered it. D'rok gave a quick sigh as yet another travel segment began with the bus accelerating into another tunnel. Columns of lights moved through the inside of the bus rapidly as the transport continued down the lengthy tunnel. It was not long before the vehicle lurched as the tunnel turned gently upward to the surface. Soon the vehicle lurched once again and slowed to a stop as it swiftly reached the surface. The two thanked the driver and got off.

The two looked around completely at all of the city view around them as they got onto the sidewalk. Above them beautiful skyscrapers soar above them in all directions. The air was surprisingly clean and easy to take in; the slight taint of salt in the breeze was noticeable from the distant sea. The still rising suns reflected off several of the buildings and shown light down across the street and down onto the large marketplace that sat nestled in between all of the buildings. The level of traffic was fairly low and there were not hardly anyone around on the street. Down the streets were misted lightly by the fog.

"Whoa…" K'an twitched slightly by the sight.

"I expected different." D'rok commented agape. "A lot different." In his mind, he was getting slight nostalgia of the Human city of Seattle, Washington.

"Wow! This… this is much better than Tallaham!" K'an said happily. "I like it already."

"Same… Let's go look for that work."

"Ok."

The two moved across the across the street, cautiously looking out for cars that might be traveling by. Despite there being hardly any foot traffic, it was tight maneuverability inside of the markets themselves. This was probably mostly in part that all of the vendors were packed tightly in close proximity to each other. The only fairly wide areas were the large lanes that ran parallel through the market area. Most of the vendors were closed and the ones that were not either just opening or sitting in front of their shop's with coffee and the morning newsletter. With the many vendors present there were a wide array of smells associated to each vendor. The smell of sea bound fish lingered heavily.

"How are we going to find work here?" K'an asked as he stepped over a small stream of some sort of liquid on the lane.

"We can ask around here. Later we will head to the industrial town." D'rok explained.

"Why not start at the industrial part of town first?"

"Between you and me, we just quit a two year industry job and I am not looking to get back into it."

"True…"

"There has to be something around here." D'rok muttered as he looked around.

As if on cue the sound of several crates of fish falling to the walkway rang out behind them. The two turned to see an old Sangheili male struggling to move the crates back onto a hand wagon near his vending tent. One of the crates had split open on the path and a layer of fish lay on the walk way.

"There." D'rok smirked. "Come on, K'an. Let's help." D'rok turned to the vendor and lead K'an to the man.

"Well hello there!" K'an greeted the man as he absent mindedly started picking up fish.

"W-what are you doing, youth?" The old Sangheili asked in reference to K'an just picking up his fish.

"We are just helping someone out quickly…" D'rok answered.

"Oh…well thank you youths. Here, I have an additional crate for those. It is right over here in my tent next to the hand wagon" The Sangheili said as he moved to get the mentioned crate.

"Well... this seems fishy" D'rok looked to K'an to see his comment was said to his own arm full of fish.

"Slow down, dumbass." D'rok chuckled. "You will scare the guy."

"You want to hold these fish?" K'an snapped playfully.

"No."

The aged male came out from behind his tent with a wooden crate. "Here…" He announced as he set it on the ground next to D'rok. "Put those things in here." He pointed down at the crate.

K'an dumped the fish into the fresh crate and then the three began to pick up all off the fish from the ground. Soon the crate was full and the fish problem had been dealt with. The two quickly found a place to clean their hands before returning to the aged Sangheili. With his fish contained the old male was sitting down with a writing utensil on a sheet of paper. The two went to him.

"Thank you too." The male looked up at them. "You don't see kindness like that hardly in this era."

"We were just doing what we would expect others would do if it was us." D'rok explained.

"Yeah… I would hate it if my fish just got everywhere like that." K'an said awkwardly.

"Yes… it is a huge annoyance." The Sangheili started. "I cannot lift the full crates like I could 15 years ago"

"That is alright" D'rok smiled as he leaned down to grab the full crate of fish. He then lifted it and set it easily onto the hand wagon on top of the others. "We all get old eventually… no offense."

"No offense taken…" The Sangheili groaned. "The hurting truth is but the truth." He paused for a moment. "Well… have a seat youths. Make yourself at peace. You have earned it." He motioned to a pair of nearby chairs.

The two sat down in the chairs and watched the old man for several quiet moments.

"So…" K'an muttered idly.

"What about you two?" The man suddenly asked. "Do you have names or should I call you Youth one and Youth Two?" he asked with a slight smile.

"I actually prefer to by Youth one point five, sir." K'an answered before D'rok could answer.

"Well then…" The male laughed "What are your names then?"

"My name is D'rok Tallaham and he is K'an Retmar." D'rok answered.

The male gave an 'hmm.' "My name is Voro' Tuyokee"

"It is nice to meet you, sir." D'rok smiled.

"Where are you two from?"

"I grew up on an off world ship and then worked many years for an assortment of companies as labor." D'rok answered.

"I just kind of bop around from place to place." K'an threw out with a slight shrug. "I met with him on our last job." He added.

"What happened to your last job?" Voro asked.

"Things…" D'rok paused for a brief moment. "Things fell through after we had some issues with the management."

"You two are refugees?" Voro gawked in a seemingly disgusted manner.

"Yeah... "D'rok took the brunt of the glare Voro was giving them. "We came here because we heard that this was the fairest place to head."

"I knew you two were southerners. I could hear it in your voices." Voro grimaced.

"Sir. We are some of the best workers you could find from where we came from. We are up here for the work besides the safety of your state." D'rok conned.

"And you came here to take our jobs from us?" Voro asked, getting rigid from the conversation.

"Sir we would like to live here…" D'rok sat straight to drive the point.

"Well…" Voro stopped for a moment to consider. "Pardon my aged points of view." He sighed. "Have you two found any work yet?"

"No we haven't" D'rok sighed.

"Do you have a problem with water and boats?" Voro suddenly asked.

"Me? No…" D'rok answered.

"I don't do boats" K'an grumbled.

"Very well… D'rok I think I might need a hand on my fishing boat." Voro titled his head slightly.

"Thank you sir!" D'rok smiled slightly at the sudden offer

"Also…" Voro turned his head to K'an "One of my drinking brothers claims that Arica Armories is always looking for workers. You should check that place out. It is on the other side of the city."

"...Um… Thanks" K'an looked unsure

"You to go off and explore the city. D'rok?"

"What?" He looked to Voro.

"Come back here around mid-evening. I have a place you can room yourself in if you need." Voro waved them off.

The two said their goodbyes then stood. The left the Voro and his fish as they briskly left the marketplace. They were not necessarily in a hurry, but rather just wanting to move on to the bus station that they had exited at earlier. K'an seemed less than thrilled for the time being.

"I was about ready for him to start breaking into old time stories with us when I said I didn't do fish." K'an snorted "Back in my day…" K'an started with the imitation of an elderly voice. "We ate fish right from the creek! We would stick it in our mouth and pull out the bones!"

D'rok chuckled.

"Back in my day…" K'an started yet again. "When we had to walk to the fishing pond we had to walk barefooted ten miles, uphill both ways, through five feet of snow, in a blizzard, during a heatwave and a drought, and we still never complained about it!" K'an exclaimed animatedly.

The two got onto one of the buses that pulled up to the bus stop just as they got there. This buss had two floors of seating, very similar to the likes of the iconic double decker buses of Great Britain. They decided to head to the rooftop seating so they could view the sights of the city.

"It doesn't even make sense!" K'an continued. "How in the hell can you walk to somewhere and back uphill both ways?!"

"Is this the kind of shit you keep yourself up at night with?" D'rok laughed.

"You bet your ass it is." K'an snorted again.

The two sat in the seats and the bus began to roll off deeper into the city.


	9. Act II Chapter III: What We Do Best

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ

Fate Twister (Redux Edition)

Act II Chapter III

"What I Do Best"

H.D. 7:55 p.m. March 2nd, 2529

"There you go, kid" D'rok said as he set a pair of fish crate on a cart in front of a young Sangheili.

"Thank you!" The youth said back.

"Have a good day, N'vek." D'rok smiled as he began to leave the Youth and his shack.

"You too, D'rok" The youth waved and went to move the crates one by one.

D'rok turned to Voro's truck that they both used for delivering fish. D'rok was just finishing the last of the deliveries he had to do for the evening. After closing the tailgate of the truck he climbed back into the truck and sat on its old torn seats. It was slightly interesting to D'rok in fact that even old Sangheili vehicles hardly seem to age like their Human counterparts. There was only rust and tear if the vehicle was considered vintage like Voro's truck. The worst issue would be that electronics would just die out and what not. Besides this there was not much to worry about other than the average care one would provide to vehicles. He shook his head from his noticing and turned the ignition a single click to allow the engine systems to prepare for operation.

As he waited for the systems to warm back up he looked out of the side window of the truck back to the Youth who had just finally left his view as he struggled inside with the first crate of fish. His name was N'vek Yrong and this was his restaurant. He apparently was a very skilled cook for his age of 16 and he was desperately trying to expand his self-named restaurant to a bigger audience. His food was surprisingly some of the best food that most people had ever eaten; D'rok just happened to belonged to this demographic and he was proud of it too. He went in for meals about twice a week and always left very generous tips. The kid had a very obvious magic touch for food.

The engine turned on suddenly as the systems had finished their preliminary operation tasks; the truck lifted from the ground easily as it did. D'rok took the controls and pushed them forward slightly, making the engines push the truck forward easily from the parking lot. He looked both ways quickly before accelerating steadily onto the road. From N'vek's little restaurant D'rok made his way back to Voro's place. It was quite decent drive. It was at the time where he was driving down the right roads in which the sunlight was just creeping over the horizon as it was setting; the sky was tinted red gradually as the trip progressed further to its destination. D'rok loosely held the controls as he piloted the craft with ease as he enjoyed the evening sights. Varo was a very open and beautiful place. It had its fair share of skyscrapers, tight streets, and 'red light' areas too, but for what it was all worth it was very open. To help that was sheer fact that the city itself was downright colossal. You might not be able to traverse from the north to the south side in a single day's walk. The best way around the city was probably the bus and tram lines; driving was fine, but the public transportation in Varo was exceptional.

D'rok tightened his grip on the controls for a moment as he stretched the sleeping muscles in his fingers. The drive was nearly over as he left the lights of Varo in his rear view as he continued onto the area of Cleveate, which lay about 30 minutes to the north. The darkening drive ended soon as he turned into a small alley behind a small restaurant style building within a village. D'rok turned the truck off and waited for the vehicle to rest down from lengthy operation. He forcefully closed its door as it had difficulty shutting and he made his way inside. Even before he opened the door, the sounds of a near frantic Voro could be heard giving someone a piece of his mind.

"I do not understand it one bit!" Voro spoke in a tone just shy of yelling. "Back in my day if you wanted to be a fisherman you had to build your boat and your net with your own hands before you thought of dragging yourself and your equipment into the bay! Now you children have the gall to come here and request money from me to buy your own!" D'rok opened the door and saw that Voro was getting after a pair of young fishermen. "Maybe I should just have D'rok teach you a thing or two!" Voro motioned to D'rok in frustration.

"I want no part of this." D'rok put up his hand up to him as he walked passed.

"Well then you are just no better than these two!" Voro shot back.

"Hmm" D'rok stopped. "I guess I will leave you the crate lifting from now on" he smiled at Voro.

"Well… uh…" Voro slowed his vocal pace and stopped. "Never mind. You two should get home… it is late." The two left chuckling. "You left me embarrassed! You should not treat your elders like that." Voro turned back to D'rok moments after the youths had left.

"Don't you put that on me!" D'rok went behind Voro's small bar and grabbed a bottle of beer from inside a fridge. "It is not my fault I have enough balls to call you out for making an ass of yourself." D'rok opened the bottle against his palm and leaned his back against a wall.

"You just shouldn't!" Voro argued.

D'rok chuckled as he took a sip from the bottle.

"What is so funny?!" Voro grimaced at D'rok.

"You get so worked up over nothing old man." D'rok shook his head.

"That may be…" Voro sighed. "You are going out on the boat tomorrow?"

"Yeah… that is what you pay me to do, isn't it?"

"Damn your tongue, D'rok! If you were half the stature you currently are I would slap you on your cheek." Voro threatened softly.

"Calm down old timer." D'rok chuckled.

"Easy for you to say. You do not have bills to pay."

D'rok rolled his eyes and took another sip from the bottle.

"Anyway I am turning in for the night." Voro announced as he began to walk passed D'rok.

"I'll see you tomorrow then… night" Voro waved a single hand back at D'rok and disappeared up the building's staircase.

D'rok finished his beer slowly as he rested against the pillar. He enjoyed listening to the quiet sounds of the outskirts of Cleveate after the sun had gone down. The soft thumping of music from a club down the street; the whine of a vehicle passing the restaurant; it was all just so peaceful to him. With the alcohol gone and a look at the clock, D'rok set the bottle softly down in the recycling bin and headed for the stairs. Before heading up to his room he turned the lights of the main room. Soon he rested himself into his bed in the small room that Voro was letting him have. He set his alarm clock on the wooden crate next to the bed and nestled himself to bed.

H.D. 10:23 a.m. March 3rd, 2529

D'rok walked towards the stern of the trawler-esc fishing ship that he was operating on this day. The suns were already high and brightly shining over the calm waters of the Sea of Kar'un. He breathed in a slow, drawn out breathe of the moist ocean air through his nostrils as he stood on the side of the ship. Before him, a latch that held the rope that looped around the underwater fishing net. The net had been down for a while and now was the time to see what his luck was like today. He grabbed a hold of a secured rope and began to undo it from the latch on the side of the boat. With the rope tightly in around his fist, he propped his hoof against the gunwale of the vessel and began to slowly pull in the rope.

The net rope was difficult to give, however due to a pulley system that connected to the boom of the ship, it could be handled with a bit of muscling. Soon the top of the net was coming out of the waters, the ship had begun to tilt towards the port side that the net was from the weight of fish. Slowly D'rok began to pull the net out of the water, each length of rope was a bit heavier than the last. Soon the very full net of was lifted out of the water. D'rok strained with the weight of the net and briefly struggled as he moved with the rope to tie the line on a hook so that he could loosen his grip on the rope. As soon as he could he moved a free hand over to hold a covered button that would make the boom rotate over the deck of the ship. He regulated the rope in his hands until the boom had moved over a section of the deck that was slightly lower than the rest.

He then began to easily let out rope until the heavy net rested on the deck of the ship. As the weight was removed from the rope and his arm, D'rok gave a deep and rushed sigh. He closed the little hatch over the boom's buttons and pulled a rag from his pant pocket to wipe the sweat from his face. He panted heavily as he walked over to a chair that sat along the outside of the cabin of the wheelhouse. After sitting he quickly took a canteen of water and drank from it. He looked down as he rested and watched several beads of sweat run down his uncovered skin of his torso. He was not one for being shirtless and for being open to give his body for public show, but out on the sea it was hot and there was little solace from the sun's rays viciously beating down onto him.

After a few brief moments to catch his breath, he reached up to the side of the cabin and took a corded microphone hanging from a radio that was bolted to the wall boards. He pulled the microphone to his mouth and held it there for a second.

"Voro One to Homestead. Pickup Homestead." D'rok spoke clearly with a very slight shortness of breath.

After a few seconds of silence Voro responded. "What is it boy? Have you not finished your catching? You have not caused destruction to my boat have you?!" Voro asked, immediately sounded irate.

"Yes I have… In fact I am hailing you from the bottom of the sea!" D'rok chuckled smartly.

"Why must your mouth run with such haste!? Youth, you are sending me towards insanity!" Voro complained loudly.

"Calm down, old man." D'rok laughed softly.

"Well what is it… What do you hail me for?"

"I just wished to say that I just pulled in quite the large net of fish. It will easily stock your sales into the next week." D'rok told him with a soft sense of pride.

"Glorious, boy! Simply glorious!" Voro praised, instantly changing his mood "Are you to deliver the load and return to the sea to get another netting?"

"No… I will probably spend the evening with K'an if that is alright with you."

"...Very well." Voro sighed "Do not harm my vessel. Homestead out."

D'rok simply sighed and replaced the microphone to where it belonged.

He took another sip from his water and continued to rest in the chair. He drew a long breath of the sea air and smell of the large net of fish. As difficult as this job was without assistance, he greatly enjoyed the atmosphere of it; the smell and beautiful view of the sea and bay. He figured he would rest for a few moments before driving the boat back to Voro's dock. After a few minutes of waiting and sipping on his canteen, D'rok stood from the chair and went over to the side of the large full net of still twitching fish. The last thing he had to do was to secure the opening on the net and so he began the finishing task. As he finished tying of the opening of the next, his ear caught a distance rumble from the direction that Varo. He knotted the rope around the opening and stepped back from the wiggling net. With an eye towards Varo a group of dots in the horizon could barely be seen from the ship. D'rok put his hand to shield his eye to see better as the dots seemed to be traveling just over the water; the dots continued to grow as they barrel quickly in the direction of the ship. A few short seconds later, the dots, clearly seen now being a small formation of Type – 31 Seraph fighters, blasted just above the mast of the ship; the metal boat vigorously began to shake from the volume of the craft's speed. The downforce of the fighter's draft left a huge wake in the water surrounding the ship leaving the ship to bob and tilt. This caused D'rok to slightly stumble until he gripped the side of the net besides him.

After correcting his balance, D'rok moved to the other side of the ship to continue watching the Seraphs on their flight. Now the formation was widely banking upwards into the atmosphere where they continued zipping up towards orbit. D'rok smiled slightly as he watched them, listening to their once deafening pass over reduce to a distant and calm rumble. He had some brief flashbacks from his time in the Middle East as a marine years ago. Specifically the few times that A – 10 Thunderbolt IIs had repeatedly strafed over an unfavorable combat area; very clearly saving he and whoever's ass at the time. As the Seraph formation disappeared into orbit, D'rok slowly came to from his slight daydreams.

He chuckled slightly as he turned from starboard side of the ship and headed into the wheelhouse. He took the chair into the cabin with him and closed the door behind him. He took a seat before the controls of the ship and pressed several preliminary controls; the ship's engine began to warm. After allowed the engine to prepare for ignition he turned it on. The aged engine chugged heavily before noisily turning over to its voluminous and deep throated rumble. He flipped a few switched then pushed the dual throttles forward easily to full. The heavily loaded ship lurched and buckled as the engines strained from the weight as the ship slowly picked up speed; the ship shook furiously beneath D'rok's boots.

The ship pushed on steadily through the calm waters towards Cleavete. Soon the ship closed in onto a small bay snuggled within the approaching land. D'rok piloted the ship into through a private boat yard until he slowed the boat next to a pier with a small sized crane waiting. D'rok held the ship steady as a pair of Sangheili secured the vessel to the pier. With the ship secure, D'rok turned the ship off and left the wheel house to give aid to the Sangheili on the pier. He was handed the claw hook of the crane which he quickly attached to the top of the full net. The crane's operator slowly lifted the still wiggling net from the deck of the ship. Once lifted, the net was swung over slowly over the back of a large open truck bed where it was lowered until it rested heavily on the vehicle. The two dock Sangheili waved to D'rok and left with the truck full of fish.

D'rok walked back into the wheelhouse and retrieved his shirt. On his way out he grabbed the radio against the exterior of the cabin once again. "This is Voro One to Voro Homestead. The ship is back with the pier." D'rok said after slipping his black tee shirt over his torso.

"Very well, boy. I shall see you soon. Do not have too much fun this evening." Voro answered.

"Ah, do not worry about me, Voro. I can handle myself."

"Whatever helps you rest at night, child" Voro chuckled over the radio.

D'rok rolled his eyes and put the microphone back onto its clip.

He carefully left the ship's deck as he climbed onto the pier. He made his way off of the pier and out of the boat yard towards the nearest bus stop in Cleavete. The bus soon and then he was riding the route to downtown Varo. The route was very uneventful and before he even knew it he was stepping off the bus onto the sidewalks near the very marketplace that K'an and he had met Voro. He decided not to stick around the busy mid-day market place and headed west directly towards K'an's apartment. After an hour or two of walking through the streets he finally had reached K'an's apartment after almost reaching the area in Varo aptly named Red Light district; named for its prostitution and crime rates respectably. With a spare key that K'an had given him he entered the apartment to find that K'an was not home. This was most likely because he was still working.

D'rok locked the door behind him and spent a few minutes cleaning up some stray plates and beer bottles that were on K'an's coffee and end tables before sitting on the couch in the living room. As D'rok sat he gave a sigh; the couch was relieving enough on his back. He sat for a while in thought about his life now. He was but a simple fisher now. It was not the life he really wanted, but it was humble; something that he valued over any 'perfect' job of whatever he just happened to wish to do. It still felt awkward to him, he was good at it but he knew it was not his place. He did not know what else to do. He could not leave K'an behind in this world as that would be no fair to him. These thoughts troubled him and soon they drove him to tiredness and eventually to sleep.

He immediately, as it would seem, was thrust into a flurry of dream scenarios. Of course there was the usual flashes of his Human past of scenes of war, his family, and other things from that era of his life. He even sometimes would have dreams of painful transformation from his former self into his current form. The rarest form of dreams he would encounter would be ones where he would be Sangheili. He found himself on a similar couch to the one K'an owned. He looked around at the blurred edges of his vision in the apartment around him. One of the things that stuck out to him was an issue of Hot Rod magazine that was laying on the coffee table before him with an unopened beer next to it. The magazine seemed to draw him in, as objects in dreams sometimes do, so he picked it up from the table to get a closer look at it.

On the front of it was the picture of a dark green 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle 454 SS, much like the one his father owned. He looked from the magazine to grab the beer bottle from the table. He gave a slight smile to the beer he held in his hand; a Heineken. His favorite. He opened the drink against the palm of his hand and took a quick sip from it. His mind portrayed the taste of the beer as best as it would like to remember; albeit slightly sweet. He sat back against the couch and opened the magazine to begin slowly looking through the pages and the cars within them. A lot of them were of his favorites or those that his father and he worked on; he figured that this was because his mind was just filling for something as the dreaming mind usually does.

"How is the magazine, baby?" A sudden female voice made him jump.

He looked up quickly to see none other than Morgan standing just beyond the coffee table. D'rok about dropped the two items in his hands at the sight of her; she was nearly perfect to his memory. Her long black hair; her curves; her magnificently gorgeous face. She was simply breath taking. He was struck silent as this was a rare occurrence.

"I don't think you look too bad…" Morgan spoke softly as she looked him over. Even her voice was perfect re-creation. "You're still you I guess."

"M… Morgan?" D'rok asked softly.

"Yeah…" She came over and sat on the sat next to him. "You having fun?"

"I… me? Not particularly… Not without you." D'rok shuddered slightly at the strange realism to all of this.

"Aww… that is no fun baby. You need to just go out and do what you are best at." She smiled.

"I… Morgan… I am good at a lot of things… more things than you know." D'rok gulped.

"Do what puts you the best off then. Do what you know you will kick ass at." She giggled, sending a chill down his spine.

"I don't really want to go with that route… You do not understand, hun..." D'rok pleaded, feeling his nerves kicking in.

"Aww… Don't be scared. I'll be right here." She smiled to him. "Let me give you something to feel better."

She leaned forward to him and began to make the motions to give him a kiss on the cheek. Her lips nearly made contact when suddenly D'rok was woken up from his dream as K'an shut the door of his apartment. D'rok sat up with a huff. He looked around for a frantic moment and quickly saw that the dream had ended. He saw that Morgan was gone, and this angered him greatly.

"Fuck!" D'rok shouted suddenly and in a small fit of rage, he sent his fist through a clay lamp besides the couch. Pieces were sent across the living room.

"D'rok…?" K'an asked quietly from the door.

D'rok just rested his face in his palms, his now bloody knuckles shaking.

"… I'll pick up the lamp stuff… I'll get you some water." K'an quietly walked across the hardwood floor and to set his work bag down and to grab the broom. He spent a few minutes in silence to clean up the lamp.

"I am sorry about the lamp, K'an." D'rok spoke sheepishly as he wiped his eyes.

"Bah… Don't worry about it." K'an brushed it off. "You ok now?"

"Yeah… I was dreaming about her…" D'rok explained.

"Oh? What were you doing with her?" K'an asked from the kitchen.

"Not much… I was not down for long…"

"I woke you up?" K'an came from the kitchen and sat next to D'rok

"Yeah…"

"Sorry, dude…" He said as he handed D'rok a damp wash cloth for the hand.

"Don't worry about it. It isn't your fault." D'rok sighed.

K'an patted his back.

"We had just talked for a few minutes or so…"

K'an sighed. "I bet it felt good…"

"Yup…" D'rok

"Heh… I wish I could do that."

"Do what?"

"Talk to dead people…" K'an chuckled slightly.

"K'an!" D'rok looked at him sternly.

"Don't look at me like that you piece of shit." K'an gave him a stupid smile.

"You should not talk like that about that things… Last time we had a huge fight"

"Yeah? What do you want me to do?" K'an looked at him carefully.

"I want you to stop being a dick!"

K'an began to laugh at D'rok. "You expect different from me?" He sat back.

"Yes… No! Oh, fuck you!" D'rok looked away unable to take his laugh.

"Exactly!" K'an stood with a finger up as if he just confidently won a huge debate. "That is how it shall be! It will be like a well lubricated machine; working perfectly on all of its oiled cogs!" He took a proud stance. "It will be clean! It will be efficient! It will change the world!"

"K'an…" D'rok sighed as he sat back watching his friend.

"Hmm?"

"Do you even know what the fuck you are talking about?"

"Not really… Do you?"

"… K'an…"

"Yes babe?" K'an smiled and batted his eyelids, teasing D'rok.

"… I think we should join the military." D'rok sighed.

"What?" K'an stopped messing around and stared at D'rok unsure.

"I think we should join the military…"

"Why?" K'an looked at D'rok as if he was crazy.

"Well… it is what we are good at. We could go for a tour and be done with it. Get the veteran privileges and benefits and we would be very better off than we are now." D'rok argued.

K'an thought for a moment. "No…"

"K'an… there is no reason not too! It is what we do best…"

K'an paused for a moment before his face twisted. "Fuck it. Yes… let's do it. I don't want to be a factory grease ball for my whole life and I am sure that you don't want to wade around in fish for the rest of yours either."

"Then it is settled… Let's go tomorrow then."


	10. Act II Chapter IV: VMA I

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ

Fate Twister (Redux Edition)

Act II Chapter IV

"Varo Military Academy I"

H.D. 8:32 a.m. March 3nd, 2529

D'rok sat heavily on K'an's couch. His skin glistened slightly from sweat that had accumulated from his morning exercise routine; the back of his shirt was slightly damp from this. He eased himself for several moments as his panting softened quickly as he caught his breath. After just returning from a nice jog through a nearby park, D'rok was feeling the slight nipping claws of hunger on his belly. He rested just a few more moments before standing up and making his way towards the kitchen.

He pulled out a pan and set it onto the stove top. As the stove was getting ready to heat the burner, D'rok went into the fridge and grabbed K'an's carton of large eggs. He washed his hands in the sink quickly before cracking the eggs against the edge of the pan and putting them into the already heated pan. The eggs immediately began to pop and sizzle as they whites began to solidify. He quickly pulled some seasoned cheese and began mixing that with the eggs. Soon the eggs and cheese became one mass of yellow mash that gave off quite the lovely aroma throughout the apartment. As D'rok would have figured, K'an entered the living room from his bed room. He had a slow groggy stride to his movement as he approached the kitchen area slowly.

"What are you making?" K'an asked quietly as he leaned against the counter near the coffee maker.

"I am making us breakfast so we can get out of here." D'rok replied unmoved as he stirred the eggs with a fork-like utensil.

K'an got himself a cup of coffee and then watched D'rok finish the eggs as he continued to lean against the counter. "You know… on days off you can sleep in… You do know that, right?" K'an asked as he sipped the coffee.

"I can't help that I always get up at the same time every morning."

"Yeah… Does it really have to be the same time that kids get up on Christmas morning?" K'an chuckled.

"K'an… shut the fuck up and eat your eggs." D'rok said as he slid a plate towards him.

The two ate their breakfast and left for the west portion of the city after cleaning up a bit and dressing. The two found the bus ride quite uneventful aside from their occasional back and forth banter about politics and economic stability. They soon got off on the west side of the city and started the brief walk to the recruitment office for the Zelso Military academy. The two stopped just outside of the office to look around to make sure that they were at the right spot; the offices for the Varo Home guard and the Varo Military Academy were right across the street from one another. The two ignored the potentially confusing setup and entered the Military Academy's office.

Inside the building was a welcoming lobby that held many of the flag of Varo and Zelso beside each other in multiple places in plain view. Amongst the decent sized lobby were some basic refreshments for any visitor to ease themselves with. The two ignored the empty lobby and the refreshments and made their way to the receptionists behind the counter passed the lobby. The male behind the counter was wearing a full Major uniform and armor set.

"Welcome to the Varo Military Academy recruitment office! May I interest you both in an application?" The Major smiled to them.

"Yes sir." D'rok nodded.

"Here you two go. You may have a seat in the lobby as you fill these out." The Major smiled once more as he handed D'rok a pair of data pads. "Just bring them back to me when you finish."

"Will do." D'rok turned back towards the lobby as he gave one to K'an.

The two sat a few seats from each other and began to fill out the applications. The application was just like any other generic application. At the top were things for a person's name, date of birth, and citizenship number; towards the middle was more specific things like height, weight, eye color, and so forth; and finally at the bottom were important things like addresses, experience, medical history, and other background information lines. The two took a bit of time to carefully go over the details until they were finished.

"Hmm…" K'an hummed softly. "Sex? Yes please!" He excitedly spoke softly.

"Oh my god…" D'rok muttered without looking from the application.

"What?" K'an looked over

"You are a walking cliché." D'rok chuckled in a disinterested manner.

K'an just shot a look at him.

D'rok had finished his application first and decided to wait until K'an finished his. There was a certain nostalgic feeling to all of this as this is exactly how he and K'an had joined the United States Marine Corps long before. As soon as K'an was done, the two stood and approached the Major at the counter. They handed in the applications and were told they could leave or wait in the lobby until they have been contacted by the recruitment services. The two left the building and stood outside for a moment to think what they wanted to do.

"Well shit…" K'an looked down both ways of the street awkwardly. "What now?"

"Know any good coffee shops around here?" D'rok asked thinking.

"Oh yeah, maybe we can get you one of those creamy bitch drinks that you like… what are they called?" K'an teased.

"Frappes?" D'rok looked at him funny.

"Yeah! Those crappy frappes!" He laughed almost annoyingly. "They have the whipped cream on top? Heh, more like 'fappe'" K'an jested as the two began to move down the sidewalk.

"Are you done?" D'rok asked with a slight smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Are you done?!" K'an mocked in a weird voice. "My name is D'rok and I always have to be serious." K'an gave a funny face at D'rok.

"…What would I ever do without you?" D'rok sighed.

"No idea… You still would be boring. Everyone knows I am the more interesting of us two." K'an boasted.

"Yeah? Is that why you always have prostitutes from the Red Light district? No wonder you live so close." D'rok shot back at K'an.

"Well… Shut up!" K'an stuttered slightly. "At least I get some! I never said anything about quality or quantity!"

"Oh sure! And you just get on my case for not just getting drunk and having fun with half of the

Varo female population. What a great way to think, K'an!"

K'an looked down the way that they were walking and got quite, unable to quickly think of a comeback towards D'rok.

The two ended up getting to the coffee shop and sat sipping their drinks as they waited. To pass more time they found a table with a decently large array of holographic board games with the Sangheili equivalent of checkers, chess, and more. After about an hour they both received a message telling them to go to the academy's main gate the morning of the next day.

With a shrug the two left the coffee shop and headed back to K'an's apartment. The rest of the day consisted of D'rok cooking for the two and them watching K'an's television. Before the day was over and the suns had set, D'rok got ahold of Voro and told him of his career change. Despite Voro being a tad upset that he was now losing one of his best workers, he seemed proud enough to let D'rok go. Before they knew it, they had woken up the next morning and were soon standing in the early frigid morning air at the main gate of the academy.

They both were quiet as they were tense with many conflicting emotions. On one hand they would be actually going places. Unfortunately, them 'going places' only lead to danger and possible failure at survival. They were, however, excited at this new chapter in their lives as they waited the opening of the gate; hidden under this was their mutual feeling of dread. Suddenly the door that they were waiting for turned green and was labeled 'unlocked.' The two stood and stretched slightly before entering the doorway.

On the other side of the door was a waiting room very similar to that of the recruitment office that they were at the day before. The two looked around quickly looked around as they walked up to the counter. They noticed a pair of younger Sangheili males sitting in the chairs waiting; the youths watched D'rok and K'an approach the counter. At the counter was Major who looked at them with a weird look.

"You are to remain here until the rest of your class arrives." The Major spoke. "Bags and personal belongs in the bin" He pointed to a large crate in front of the counter.

D'rok and K'an gave a quick nod to the Major before setting their things in the bin. The two went and sat on the opposite side of the room as the two youths who still were watching them for some reason. Time slowly passed and very slowly more recruits came in through the same door, dropped their things in the bin, and then sat nervously scattered throughout the waiting room. D'rok and K'an sat bored as several hours had passed; K'an actually fell asleep in the duration of the wait. After all of the waiting, the room eventually became filled with recruits. Of the recruits, they all seemed to be around the ages of 16 or 17. Some of them had some armor with them already; D'rok figured that to be family items passed down to them.

Soon a Major came into the waiting room. "Alright! I am Major Vekamee!" The Major quickly called out, waking K'an up. "Stand up from your seats and March out of that door to common room 34!" he barked.

D'rok and K'an were among the first to stand and form into a rough line with the rest of the recruits. The two were at the front end of the line and had begun moving before the rear had fully formed. The line made a brief march across a common grounds before they entered a barracks looking building. Inside were a series of many bunks and a crate for each bed. The line stopped and waited for orders. D'rok and K'an could feel that the rest of the recruits were very nervous.

Major Vekamee quickly entered behind the line and stood towards the entrance side of the building. "If you do not have any armor, step forward!" He commanded loudly.

The ones that had no armor, including D'rok and K'an, stepped a pace forward from the line.

"You are all now to go to the armory! Follow the signs!" Major Vekamee yelled as he pointed at the door.

The line of armor less recruits formed and they moved towards the armory from the common room. This time D'rok and K'an were at the tail end of the line of marching recruits. The recruits made their way into the armory where they stopped before the armory master. One by one they were all measured and given a set of matte grey armor. After a bit of confusion and some aid from the armory personnel they all figured out how to properly put their armor on. Following this the personnel explained how the shield systems worked and how to use the Assisted Combat Interface with the comm functions and other basic commands.

After all of the armor sets had been fastened on the recruits reformed a line once again. From the armory they marched back to common room 34. As soon as they returned they were all assigned bunks; K'an was a few bunks away from D'rok. Before they could get too comfortable, Major Vekamee came back in after leaving briefly and started barking more orders.

"Alright recruits; out to the skirmish field! Head out and board the waiting Shadows! Now march!" He yelled.

The recruits snapped and quickly left the common room. Outside there were a pair of Type – 29 Troop 'Shadow' Transports. The recruits boarded the large purple tinted vehicles and nestled down for the trip to wherever the sparing fields would be. Before the transports left the ground, Major Vekamee came onto the Shadow that D'rok and K'an were on.

"This is your first assessment, recruits!" He spoke loudly into his com piece so that the recruits of both Shadows could hear him. "You are going into a skirmish against common room 26 of the Zelso State Military Academy"

"What equipment are we to use, Sir?!" D'rok asked loudly, projecting his voice as any respectable serviceman should to an officer, knowing that none of the younger recruits were going to ask off the bat.

"Training weapons will be supplied at the field!" Major Vekamee answered.

"Anything specific!?" K'an asked.

"You will see once you arrive!" He shot back.

The younger recruits seemed even more nervous than they previously were as the Shadows began to hover and move. There was soft murmuring exchanged throughout the Shadow while D'rok and K'an remained silent. The two didn't blame them as they knew already that a first training op was quite stressful to those who were fresh to the fight. To make the ride more unnerving for them, Major Vekamee began to circle the Shadow.

"How old are you, Recruit?!" Major Vekamee asked as he stood by K'an.

"I am a fine young age of 27, Sir!" K'an replied as he looked up from the floor.

"Why are you joining at such an age?!"

"I figured I did not want to be a factory worker for my entire life!"

"Good to hear you have some sense in life, Recruit!" The Major nodded and continued giving the rest of the recruits similar harassment.

The Shadows continued to travel over what felt like a variety of terrain for about 20 minutes. The murmurs died out eventually as Major Vekamee gave slight harassment to everyone in the Shadow. Soon the transports stopped and the doors opened; outside looked like some sort of dense forest.

"Off the Shadow! Go recruits!" Major Vekamee yelled as he stood by the front near the doors.

Everyone quickly stood and began to flush out of the Shadow. D'rok and K'an were in the middle of the group to head for the exits. The younger recruits seemed quite nervous about this as they mostly looked around frantically as they left the transport. Sitting on the dirt just outside of the transports were several crated racks of weaponry. Inside these crates were an assortments of firearms including Type – 25 plasma rifles, Type – 51 plasma repeaters, Type – 31 needle rifles, and a few Type – 50 beam rifles.

The recruits all looked around at each other in slight confusion. They seemed to not know whether to wait if the Major would instruct them further. D'rok walked forward to the crate and quickly grabbed a load out he wanted. From the crate he took two plasma rifles, a plasma repeater, and a needle rifle. He placed the two plasma rifles on the magnetic plate on each hip and the plasma repeater on his back. K'an followed suit and grabbed a needle rifle and a beam rifle. K'an put the beam rifle on his back and stepped away from the crates with D'rok and watched the rest of the recruits.

"You will be out here for three days." Major Vekamee called from the door of the Shadow.

"Follow these two as examples as they seem to know what they are doing." He paused. "I do question whether they have room for survival equipment." The major pointed out. The recruits all gave uneasy faces as if they were between laughing and forcing themselves to not show emotion.

"Are we to devise us into teams and roles?" D'rok asked Major Vekamee.

"No. You are all going out in pairs of two!" He answered. "The entire field is open… You must, however, stay within the boundaries."

"Understood, Sir!" D'rok nodded.

As the rest of the recruits began to collect their weapons, D'rok looked over the mentioned survival equipment. Inside the equipment crates were rations, water units, and fire starter sets, along with other normal things one possibly would need for survival. D'rok pulled out a handful of fire starter and put them in his utility belt. The sets were fairly small and did not take up much space. He then pulled out four water units and gave K'an two after putting one on his belt. He then took only four rations and gave them to K'an to carry as he had the least weapons of the two. K'an placed them in appropriate and secure spots where he could carry them and waited next to D'rok as they watched the rest of the recruits gather their things.

"Listen recruits!" Major Vekamee got their attention once again. "You will meet the other group out in the field. This is an elimination skirmish, so when you are hit, your armor will lock up depending on how badly you are hit. Once your armor is completely locked you are frozen until the duration of the skirmish is finished. Once the days are complete, your armor will unlock and you are to return here. Is that understood?!" he explained.

"Yes sir!" all of the recruits answered to him.

Individually the Major began sending out groups of two. During the time that D'rok and K'an waited to be selected they got a feel for the local of the field. The skirmish field consisted of mostly very dense forest. Thick moss covered the trees and ferns heavily covered the forest floor, leaving very little variation from the numbing green that the environment was made up of. Little did they know, the skirmish field was quite large. The space was large enough to house a mock few towns, vehicle courses, three rivers, and two large lakes.

As the suns began to sink into the evening, the two had come across an opening near a large concrete building that seemed to be nothing but an empty warehouse. The two steadily made their way through the near chest high grass towards the warehouse.. On the side that was facing the field, the two used some shrubs that grew along the side of the building to make a hidden dug out. From there they would not be seen from the field or surrounding area. K'an had even positioned some shrub limbs overhead to create a roof that would cover them from above and from some weather. D'rok sat against the side of the building as K'an laid himself down flat in the dirt. He made an indentation in the dirt to rest the barrel of the beam rifle.

"Think anyone saw us?" K'an asked calmly as he watched through the scope across the field.

"No… most likely not…" D'rok sighed as he inspected the needle rifle. "We will know if anyone comes knocking."

"Heh… yeah." K'an softly chuckled.

Besides this the two did not talk much. They did draw straws to see who would stay up to watch the field. K'an would stay up this night as it turned out and D'rok ended up going to sleep later on. In the morning, after D'rok had woken, K'an told him that he had seen no one in the line of fire. The two continued to wait silently. Normally the quiet would drive people mad. To D'rok and K'an, however, this was a game; just a stage of getting the victory crown. The quiet was necessary, it added to the two's efficiency; albeit it being very boring.

Most of the morning was D'rok thinking on how they could lure the opposing teams in. If they could, it might take the pressure off of the other, lesser experienced pairs on their side. What he came up with was simple, really. What he would do would be that he would leave the dugout, go into the field under K'an's watch, and build a contained brush fire with lots of greens. This would make a large amount of smoke and potentially draw the attention of anyone in sight of the smoke stack. With the plan now set, K'an motioned for D'rok to leave the dugout.

With his needle rifle ready, D'rok began to run out towards the center of the field. Once there, he tried to pick

"Make sure no one takes me out, K'an" D'rok said over the com piece mid-stride.

"No, I was going to use you as bait. Because that was the plan, right?" K'an chuckled lightly, being the usual smartass he was.

D'rok never really figured how K'an could have such a sense of humor; He knew it was just a stress device at times, but the sheer fact that K'an's humor was engaged 100% of the time intrigued him. This didn't bother him all that much though, he would much rather go out with a smile on his face than miserable. If that was at all possible.

He soon came to a clear, brushless spot that would be ideal for the fire. He didn't want too much in the way as he had no desire to burn the whole place down. He lowered himself to a knee and held his gun tightly, he scanned the surroundings with his head just above the waist high grass level. He did not notice anyone from where his position.

"Field looks clear, D'rok."

"You sure?"

"Sure as shit…"

"Ok…" D'rok sighed. "Keep your eye out."

D'rok put the needle rifle on his back besides the Plasma repeater. The magnetic pad that held the guns against his back was only designed for one weapon. It seemed to do just fine with two smaller weapons on it as it was designed to take the weight of the shoulder mounted Type – 33 Light Anti-Armor 'Fuel Rod' gun. He had learned this from overheard conversations of weight capacity and other technical specs of the armor from warriors who would eat and talk at Voro's restaurant. It is amazing what one could learn if one used all of their senses.

D'rok began to work on the building of the small fire that he would start in order to build up to the desired roaring smoke stack that the two were hoping for. He quickly found some large nearby cluster of dead looking shrubs. He moved quickly to the shrubs as he did his best to keep himself below the grass top. Once there, he took a length of the shrub and snapped it in half with his hands. He inspected the inside of the length and found nothing but aged and split fibers. This would be good for starting a fire.

He took hold of the shrubs and one by one pulled them from the dirt; some easily broke from the root with no difficulty while some would have the give to have the root come out with them. Soon he had quite the handful of shrubbery to start the fire and so he began to drag them quickly back to where he wished to have the fire. He started breaking twigs and making a small bundled cabin like formation. Once the set was ready to go, he pulled out a fire starter from his belt compartment and set it inside after clicking activation clip. The fire starter burst into flame and began to very quickly burn the kindling that was around it. As soon as the smaller portions began to catch, D'rok began to add several larger pieces to fuel the fire. Due to their great dryness, they caught very quickly as well. The fire was quickly built up to a steady rate even before the fire starter stick had burnt out.

As soon as the fire was much larger, he began throwing just about any living plant on the fire to burn; this included everyone from grass to small bushes that he could un-root from the ground. He gathered a large enough pile of stuff to throw onto the fire that he ended up sitting before the large fire and slowly fed more to it to optimize smoke output. He kept close watch on the motion sensor on the ACI as the fire continued to burn lively as it gave off a deep column of smoke high into the air. D'rok sighed softly as he would continue to watch the fire.

Quite a decent amount of time had passed and nothing had really seemed to happen. D'rok had just been thinking of his usual concerns of future and plans in relation of the training and where they might go during their service. He hoped that they could return to Varo and life a comfortable life; he had a strange feeling that his time in the service would be rather eventful. His thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of firing weapons. The sounds of many plasma repeaters and needle rifles rang out from the distant forest. D'rok quickly lifted himself to a kneeling position and brought his needle rifle up at the sound. He looked just over the tall grass towards the tree line.

"Horizon check, north east." D'rok told K'an in code over the comms in code; 'horizon' being code for the furthest view they could see.

"Give me a second…" K'an said softly "There is a single recruit running from the tree line. Friendly…" K'an paused. "He is booking it… The little guy is really booking it from something…"

"Ok… Let me try to reach him. Stand bye." D'rok said, lowering himself slightly to watch the recruit.

"Yup…"

D'rok quickly switched over his comm channel to local area team and lowered himself below the grass line. "Recruit. Can you hear me?" D'rok asked calmly.

"Yes! Where are you!? I require help!" The recruit's voice called out with heavy panting from his running.

"Hurry for the fire… When you get there you need to get down below the grass and wait." D'rok instructed quickly.

"I will!"

D'rok switched over to private comms and told K'an to switch to the local area team channel. He then switched back and waited for the recruit to get there. Soon the young recruit ran up to the fire and fell forward onto his arms as he threw his plasma repeater in front of him. He hardly hit the ground before he covered his helmet with his hand in fear. He panted heavily in a mix of fright and fatigue.

"Recruit. Get up from the ground." D'rok spoke calmly at a low volume.

"Y-yes sir." The recruit slowly lifted himself to his knees and retrieved his weapon.

"Are you alright?" D'rok asked as he glanced towards him from the direction he came.

"No sir! I am being pursued!" The recruit exclaimed.

"You need to keep your voice down, kid!" D'rok waved at him in emphasis.

"D'rok… I know why he was running…" K'an spoke over the comms.

"Well?"

"We have a group of 25 to 30 of the enemy group storming towards the fire…"

"I thought we were not supposed to have that large of a team…" D'rok grumbled.

"I believe they are being rallied by one of the members of the team." The recruit spoke out

quivering.

"Damn it… K'an watch out for the leader… we are going to bushwhack these guys." D'rok spoke as he moved closer to the recruit.

"Got it… I'll wait for your word." K'an said.

"What are we doing?" The recruit looked to D'rok as he approached

"We are going to hide and wait for them to get closer to the fire. Once they are bunched and vulnerable we will attack." D'rok instructed as he moved passed the recruit. "Now follow me… I know a great vantage point."

D'rok kept under the grass line and led the recruit along the very path he had traveled while getting fire material earlier. The recruit followed closely behind D'rok while keeping down as he was. Soon D'rok stopped next to a dense cluster of tall brush that he knew was too alive to be taken for burning. He kneeled down with the recruit out of sight from the approaching group. They were not very far off from the fire. In fact they had a great vantage point from where they were; they had a full frontal view of the fire but anyone at the fire would not be able to see them unless they were very trained on the position. Their grey armor was also just the right color to mostly blend against the branches of the brush.

The large group of Zelso recruits eventually came around the fire. As they moved they were looking around and scanning the field in every direction; each one of their members were doing their best to move in unison while keeping an eye out beyond their weapons. For only recruits, they were operating pretty well as a large group. They clearly were being coached or lead by one of them. The group approached the fire and looked around quizzically as they were wondering where the Varo recruit had gone.

"K'an… keep your eye out for the one in charge. Let's give them some shell shock. You're free to fire when you find him. We will fire when they get confused." D'rok spoke quietly

"Yup…"

Several of the recruits in the Zelso group lowered their weapons and looked between each other as if unsure what to do. They all lightly inspected the fire and the patted area surrounding it.

"Someone was here…" One of the Zelso recruits pointed out.

"Yes." The one of the taller ones of the bunch said. "However, this fire was planned… This is not a fire for warmth."

"Then where is the one who started the fire?" Another asked as the entire group looked at the taller one who had spoken.

"They must be here around here… Keep your eye out and we will cru-" The taller recruit was suddenly cut off by a blazing streak of white from a beam rifle round.

The speaking recruit spun off balance to the ground from the recoil of the shot. He gave a loud growl as he fell. There was only a moment for the group to realize what just happened before another white bolt struck another in the side of the helmet. The group began to scramble to try to figure out where the rounds were coming from. A steady series of bolts followed, each taking one of the members of the Zelso group to the ground with their armor locking from fatal hits. The group had nowhere to hide from K'an's sniping except for the few who were smart enough to duck beneath the grass.

D'rok, followed by the Varo recruit, stood with the two plasma rifle raised hand in hand. The two began to quickly spray the group down amidst the frenzy from K'an's beam rifle. The recruit followed D'rok's actions and helped him send as much controlled plasma at the scattered group. Between the dual plasma rifle and the recruit's plasma repeater there was plenty of blue bolts being thrown at the Zelso recruits. Several had begun to try to fire back at the location that D'rok and the recruit had been firing from, but anytime one of them stood to take a half decent shot they would be picked off instantly with a beam rifle bolt. Despite the group's numbers, they fell quickly to the cross fire. D'rok had taken the most out as K'an allowed him to be the cleanup, crutch, and suppression as D'rok picked them off. After most of them had fallen due to armor lock, the remaining five or so got up and attempted to sprint from the fire towards the distant trees. In response D'rok quickly replaced the plasma rifles for his needle rifle and carefully picked them off as they ran through the grass with some aid from K'an.

After the entirety of the Zelso recruits had fallen, D'rok and the recruit began to pull the frozen members of the opposing team to a singular area near the fire. The two carefully placed the hardly stacked pile of unmoving recruits in such a way as they would not be harmed. D'rok then took some rations and water units off of the downed recruits and had set them on the ground near the fire. He had the recruit send food and water to K'an and waited for him to return.

"He told me to tell you that he gives thanks for the food you sent." The recruit comes back as he slowed his pace from a jog.

"Thank you for taking it too him." D'rok nodded to the recruit as he sat down.

"What is your name?" The recruit asked a moment after he sat beside D'rok. 

"I am D'rok Tallaham… and you?"

"Sig Valhamee." The recruit, Sig, replied.

"It is nice to meet you…"

"Like wise."

"So…" Sig started after quite a period of watching the fire. "Have you… done this before?"

"Nope." D'rok sipped water from a unit canister.

"You could have fooled me, sir… I hardly believe it."

D'rok just smiled as he drank.


	11. Act II Chapter IV: VMA II

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ

Fate Twister (Redux Edition)

Act II Chapter V

"Varo Military Academy II"

H.D. 10:36am March 11th, 2529

The last week had been quite interesting for D'rok and K'an.

Their bait and switch tactic worked perfectly during the three day skirmish. The two had ended up killing the most out of the rest of their team; D'rok and K'an killing 17 and 10 respectably. Most of D'rok's kills were from the two playing cat and mouse by letting any of the enemy team come close before they would flip on who would take the shot. They held their own and found that the rest of their group pretty much charged and got slaughtered by the other team who had seemed to been with some leading members; officers might not quite be the word, but close to it. There had been two hunting teams, one of which was the group that D'rok, K'an, and Sig had dispatched on day two. The other one dissolved as they searched and searched for more targets. All without stumbling onto the trio in the field somehow. While the game was quite successful for them, somehow the evaluating Majors still found an issue in the fact that they 'had not shown care for the rest of their barracks.' Figured as well.

After their first three day skirmish, the two had found that there was an active leaderboard that would keep track of which individual trainee had the highest kill score at any given time depending on how many games had been played up to that point. Due to how the games were scheduled, three had been played so far. Every ten days a three day skirmish would start, during those three days, three other 'lightning' skirmishes took place. These lightening skirmishes were close quarters rounds that would talk place in a section of a mock town or base and only last anywhere between 20 minutes and 2 hours depending on if a stand still would happen.

The leaderboard was placed above the center drilling field where the barracks would assemble in the morning and evening for the rise and falling of the Varo Academy flag. As the current standings on the leader board, with the scores listing every individual's kills, how many games, and the averages based on kills divided by the number of skirmishes those kills came from. The ranking was sorted upmost by the raw level of kills and occasionally it would sort over to averages. On the top was a Titas Nalah of Barracks 27 with a total score of 35 and 3 games. Second was held by a Matik Linctan from the same barracks with 20 and 3; and finally third was held by D'rok with 17 and 1. With the currently the highest average on the board by far, there were many hushed sessions of gossip and rumors held surrounding D'rok. The officers were eager to see how well D'rok would continue to do, and the other recruits held concerns whether they would have to face him in combat.

Otherwise the two were doing well for themselves. Besides the skirmishes there were two main things that occupied their times at the academy: physical conditioning and equipment lessons. In physical conditioning the recruits were required to pretty much do everything imaginable. This ranged from basic running for lengthy times to build stamina to quite intense contact sports that were all goal oriented CTF games, or 'Capture the Point Disk' as the Majors called it. The two, being exceptionally toned and built due to their physically demanding employment history, excelled at this without too much strain.

The equipment training was probably the thing D'rok enjoyed the most. He found it fascinating to learn about the internals of all of the vehicles and weaponry used in the Sangheili military. In this there really was no actual score or grade per individual as it was more so just to familiarize each of the recruits with every possible piece in the arsenal in case they might be heading towards a position that required its use. D'rok studied hard onto everything even after the lesson sessions were over. He wanted to be on point as well as he could be. K'an on the other hand, openly mocked D'rok for his further reading and only studied the things he was comfortable; essentially anything a sniper would need.

Currently the two were at K'an's favorite station: The food hall. The recruits had all been running around for several hours all over the academy before being allowed to eat. This was the usual day to day practice. Early rise and a five minute stretch followed by near constant jogging around for however long the Majors wanted. D'rok never was really the running type, however he did seem to find that running on the legs of a Sangheili was a little easier than what it was back when he was a Human. He figured the leg structure had something to do with it. He figured that as he was now he could easily out sprint even the fastest Human athlete with little effort.

"Dude… I love this stuff!" K'an acclaimed from across the table as he took a bite of some egg.

"K'an…" D'rok sighed.

"What, bitch?"

"It's just dehydrated and battered eggs…"

"Isn't it the coolest shit though?!" K'an smiled as his mandibles pulled and chewed at the soft egg before he swallowed. "Hmm…" He looked at another bit of egg as if he was examining it. "I wonder how they get the water out of them…" K'an rubbed his chin and D'rok just looked down and face palmed.

"Simply amazing…" Sig, who sat next to D'rok, said with a face of utter disbelief. "I cannot believe how you always find the most important questions in existence to ponder."

"Yeah… But ask yourself this: If I didn't ponder the questions, then who would?" K'an smiled as he pointed his fork towards Sig.

D'rok sighed once again and nibbled at his bread, ignoring K'an for the moment as he tried to eat with his sanity intact. Sig helped distract K'an a bit. For as young as he was he fit with the duo just fine. After their first skirmish the three were essentially inseparable. They even arranged themselves as a potential kill team and moved bunks for Sig to sleep near the two. It was nice to have a friend other than it just being D'rok and K'an. D'rok always teased himself by contemplating killing K'an due to his annoyingness.

"Hmm… D'rok?" K'an called D'rok after several brief moments.

"Holy fuck, K'an. What? What do you need!? I am trying to eat!" D'rok snapped up at K'an dropping his bread on his hardly touched plate of food.

"Heavy hitters?" K'an motioned to somewhere off behind D'rok as he completely ignored how upset D'rok had become.

D'rok looked back towards where K'an motioned. There was a pair of recruits who were walking down their isle in their directions. Everyone in the food hall seemed to look up at the two as they walked casually down the row as if some saint had passed them. Everyone in the food hall seemed to be watching them as they munched their food. The two didn't seem any different than the rest except the one was larger than the average recruit and he seemed to be following the other like some sort of protectant. D'rok just shook his head and looked back to his plate to continue to try to eat his bread again.

"You must be D'rok Tallaham." A snarky voice assumed from the left of D'rok. "The one who is challenging the leaderboard?" D'rok grimaced at the voice and dropped the bread once again to his plate.

"What do you want?" D'rok asked agitatedly as he looked over at the pair standing at the end of the table who had just moved the food hall like Moses parted the red sea.

"Oh? Not a good morning for you I can see…" The smaller one cooed in a 'higher-than-thou' fashion. "I am Titas Nalah… This is my operation companion, Matik Linctan." Titas motioned at the larger recruit standing behind him.

K'an snorted softly as he uttered the English words 'tight ass' under his breath before breaking into a deep chuckle.

"Is there something funny, southerner?" Titas raised his eyebrow at K'an.

"No… Carry on, kid." K'an shook his head and looked away trying not to laugh.

Titas cleared his throat before looking back to D'rok. "I have read into you two through my sources… Quite the interesting roster, truly…" He paused. "I would hate to see such a waste of filthy migrant workers from the south." Titas sneered disgustedly. "However… I am willing to leave that be as I was quite impressed by your little… 'game' you played during your first skirmish."

"What do you want?" D'rok rolled his eyes as he was not in the mood for this.

Titas scoffed. "I did not complete my distinctions at Derfoxah Youth University to be treated as such by the likes of you, commoner." Titas growled.

"Hey!" K'an, seeing the situation quickly rising, decided to interject. "Why don't you take your university paper and go play a nice long game of hide and go fuck yourself!"

Titas seemed to twitch and Matik shifted uncomfortably behind him. "You keep your performance to a minimal in the skirmishes and leave the lead for me, filthy commoners!" Titas leaned forward and spat on D'rok's plate of barely eaten meal.

It was at this moment the food hall seemed to freeze. Everyone was watching the situation play out and were holding their breath to see what would happen. K'an instantly stood up before D'rok could react to the spit take Titas just pulled. K'an quickly approached the two and met them at the end of the table. He took the stance to fight and stood tall against the pair.

"I thought I told you to fuck off!" K'an shouted.

"Pttf. Don't amuse me, filth!" Titas sneered at K'an.

"I suggest you leave before we-"

"Matik, we are leaving. This fool is of no threat to us." Titas cut K'an off midsentence and turned on his heel to leave.

Matik moved between Titas and K'an with a wide stance, his fists balled at his sides. "Sit down, commoner" Matik boomed in a deep voice. "Sit if you know what is good for y-"

K'an decided that he would cut off the bastards as they did to him. If there was one thing he would not stand for, it was to be snipped off as he was talking. He snapped at Matik and brought his skull into Matik's face. With his thick forehead placed right between Matik's eyes, it was an effective head butt.

Matik was taking drastically off guard and fell back stumbling from the sudden strike. His tripped up on his stumbling and fell flat on his ass, leaving him looking back up at K'an disoriented and in unwilling tears of pain. Titas had jumped as Matik hit the floor and was standing there wondering if he should split of fight. K'an approached Matik from where they sat, as he did. He took D'rok's filthy tray of food and threw it down violently onto Matik's chest; the soiled food covered his front entirely. K'an continued to approach Matik when suddenly a group of Majors who usually watched the food court for disturbances stopped him.

"Recruit! Stand down!" One of them barked at K'an "This is not the place for it."

"Major! He is out of line!" Titas spoke up to defend Matik and himself.

"Silence! You engaged verbally! If you speak another word there will be correctional actions against you!" The Major yelled much in the fashion of a drill sergeant. "You two!" He addressed K'an and Matik. "Out to the sparing rings immediately!"

The Major lifted Matik from the floor and quickly escorted the two out of the food hall. The room was silent after one of the Majors ordered them to continue their food. Titas just stood there unsure of what just happened. He shook his head and left the food hall with hast. All of the recruits sat around looking around nervously.

"Shit…" D'rok cursed. "Sig stay here… I'll be right back."

D'rok stood up and made his way out of the food hall, all eyes were watching him as he exited. He jogged to the sparing rings to watch as K'an and Matik were lectured on settling their differences in the ring. One round in the ring was more than enough as it would only last until one of the two would surrender. With a sigh D'rok crossed his arms and leaned against a dugout next to the sparing ring. This might be interesting. Matik was just a bit taller and wider than K'an, however D'rok gave high doubts that Matik was even half experienced than K'an.

The two were stood up in the sparing ring and were readied for the match. The only issue was to not inflict serious injury or throw fatal maneuvers against one another. The Majors moved back and the match was called out to start. With that, the two of them raised their fist and began to move around the ring. Matik was pretty straight forward and tried to grapple K'an several times, but K'an either skipped out of the way untouched or he simply shrugged off Matik's arms.

"Wait! Stop!" K'an yelled at Matik, dropping his fists down slightly.

Matik stopped in his tracks. "You surrender?" He asked with a slight smirk.

"No! Your boot is undone! You could trip on it!" K'an pointed downward. D'rok shook his head knowing what was going to happen. "That would not be fair to you!" K'an warned and offered.

Matik stupidly fell for it and looked down at his boots to check to see which one was undone. As soon as he was distracted, K'an reeled back and sent a right hook from hell into Matik's cheek. Matik recoiled hard against the strike and simply turned on his hooves and fell flat forward onto the dirt unconscious. D'rok, as he was sinking his face into his palm, noticed most of the Majors do exactly the same as they watched Matik get completely destroyed in the sparing ring. After a few moments the Majors gave congratulations to K'an and began to check Matik's condition. D'rok noticed Titas approach him and rolled his eyes.

"Your companion is a cheat!" Titas exclaimed.

"We are not here to learn how to be fair, Titas." D'rok rolled his eyes.

"Well, this is not the last words you will-"

"Fuck off."

"Excuse me?" Titas twitched angrily.

"Would you like to end up like your friend?" D'rok turned and stood tall before Titas. He looked down very aggressively with his fists balled at his sides at the smaller and younger Sangheili. "If you wish for me to send you through the brick wall next to you I suggest you hold your tongue and walk away."

Titas seemed to cower slightly, his eyes sizing up the larger D'rok frantically. He seemed to reach a sense of himself and he backed down. He quickly backed away from D'rok before snarling 'This is not the end of this, Tallaham!' before he turned around the corner.

"Well I see that you are already making enemies." The voice that belonged to Major Vekamee spoke behind D'rok

D'rok spun quickly on his hooves to salute the Major.

"Ease, Tallaham… Forget the formalities." Major raised an open hand at D'rok.

"I apologize for the recent situation, Major" D'rok said as he lowered his stance to a more casual manner.

"You have nothing to apologize for… If the youth had spat on my meal I would have snapped his neck." Major Vekamee admitted midst a chuckle.

"It was uncalled for…"

"Yes… Very much so." The Major paused. "Do not tolerate any further issues with Recruit Nalah. Despite his distinction, he isn't hardly worth the weight of an officer his education will grant him." The Major paused for a moment. "And besides… any quells that harm him will come from his own maw. Do what you feel is necessary, Tallaham."

"Yes, Major."

"I like you. You have me reminiscing of a much younger self that I once had been. Now do me but a simple task."

"Yes?"

"Fill out a kill team request form for you and your two companions… I will grant it before it hits my desk." He smiled.

"Of course, Major." D'rok nodded respectfully as Major Vekamee turned to leave D'rok.

"Oh, and one last thing…"

"Hmm?"

"Return to the food hall and get another meal. I have already told them I would cover it."

"Thank you, Major" D'rok smiled slightly.

"Mention it not… Keep up your exceptional performances here please, Tallaham." And with that, Major Vekamee left D'rok.

An hour later the recruits were allowed a couple of hours of freedom after an hour session of 'History of Military Tactics.' The freedom hours could be used to whatever the recruits wished to do. Usually it was spent with either rest or study. Occasionally there would be those crazy individuals who fancies a nice, slow paced jog around the academy perimeter. D'rok, after being excused from the learning session due to the altercation earlier, regrouped with K'an and Sig in the barracks.

"So then he told me that I had beaten Matik fair and justly." K'an gleamed as he explained to Sig who both sat on D'rok's bunk as he was typing something on the desk next to his bed.

"But really? 'Your boot is undone?'" Sig questioned in amazement.

"Hey… he fell for it. It was funny!" K'an chuckled deeply. "Not quite as funny as when his barracks Major came over and lectured him on keeping his eye on the opponent at all times."

Sig lightly chuckled. "I have difficulty believing this… From where I was raised that would have never came into the mix…" Sig paused "Your boot is undone… my gods!"

"Speaking of which… Why have you not told us where you are from yet? We are damn near have known each other for a week." K'an questioned suddenly.

"That is because you fail to shut your flailing maw every time he goes to tell us." D'rok interjected smoothly without looking up from his data pad.

"Oh?! A funny man over there I see!" K'an spat playfully back at D'rok "So let's hear it, Sig. Where are you from?" K'an looked interestedly to Sig.

"I am just from downtown Varo. Just a block east of the Red Light district. I live there with my mother and father… although father is never around…" Sig shrugged.

"Red Light? I live there!" K'an smiled, finally finding something in common with Sig.

"Oh? Do tell." He smiled.

"Yeah, I have an apartment on the west side… It's right across from the street of this little bakery thing."

"Oh! Yes!" Sig piped up happily. "Cantino's?!"

"Yup!"

"I used to go there all the time. I love their sweet dough pasties!" Sig beamed very happily.

"No shit…" K'an smiled and nodded slightly.

"Have you ever had the pleasure of eating there?"

"No, but I do love the women of the area. Oh my gods the ladies are amazing!" K'an exclaimed a little louder than what should be comfortable. However due to a week-long of exposure no one in the barracks bothered to say anything to K'an.

Sig's smile faded suddenly "They are alright I guess…" He grew quiet as his cheeks bear a slight purple flush of color.

"Huh?" K'an asked, taken off guard by Sig's response.

"Hey… K'an… Sig." D'rok asked as he finished typing in the data pad.

"What?" K'an looked over.

"I just finished this kill team form… like we talked about yesterday and stuff. Do you think we should actually do it?" D'rok turned to them in his chair.

"Well… I guess… Why the dramatic pauses? Are we on a sitcom?" K'an chuckled like the smartass he was.

"No. If we do this it will carry over into which ever we do, whether it be regular rank or Special Operations. If we start this then we are bound together as per direction…" D'rok explained.

"What does that mean?" K'an asked.

"It means…" Sig began, now speaking with some confidence after enduring K'an's rambling. "That if D'rok and I are to move into the Spec Ops and your mouth prevents you from coming too, we cannot attend Special Operation training until the next tour of duty." Sig sneered the clever example at K'an.

"Boy, I oughta…" K'an playfully raised a fist at Sig.

"It's up to you guys…" D'rok, trying to be semiserious, spoke.

"Sure… whatever." K'an shook his head and lowered his fist.

"I'll follow you wherever, D'rok." Sig smiled.

"Ok… That only means we need a name for the team…" D'rok sighed as he wrote a few lines of permission and his signatures at the bottom of the data pad before passing it to Sig.

"Hmm… We could name ourselves the 'Silent Beings.'" Sig suggested half-jokingly as he signed his name.

"Ok, Mr. Gothic. Sure! Right after we call it 'Clan Clown Baby!'" K'an sneered as he took the data pad from Sig to sign it himself.

"Guys… A little seriousness please…" D'rok sighed; it had been a long day already without the banter.

"What the fuck do you want from me? You know I suck at naming things!" K'an pointed out and fell back on D'rok's bed after tossing the data pad onto the desk.

"Fine… I will pick something then." D'rok rolled his eyes and began to think as he picked up the data pad from the desk.

He left the two at his bed and began to make his way for Major Vekamee's quarters. His mind had ideas already as he had previously given thoughts to some names. He favorite he though was actually from him trying to remember an album of the band Pantera, which he enjoyed much of as a Human. He had trouble remembering what the last word was of 'Far Beyond Driven' and so he played with it and had some decent results. The best he came up with was actually one he thought of after the debacle with Titas earlier that day.

Major Vekamee was in his quarters sitting behind his desk reading off of his data pad like always. D'rok entered the office and approached the desk with a certain step of confidence. Once he reached Major Vekamee's desk D'rok politely placed his data pad face up and straightened himself at attention.

"What is this, Tallaham?" Major Vekamee asked as he set his own data pad down and casually took D'rok's from the desk.

"It is the kill team form you mentioned earlier." D'rok answered quickly.

"Oh? Good. I have high expectations of you three as it is. The bond you three share is that of closely knit brethren." The Major quickly looked over the form. "Do you have a name for this group?"

"Yes sir."

"Well what is it?" Major Vekamee looked up to D'rok at the ready to pen the name in.

"Far Beyond Provocation"


	12. Act II Chapter VI: VMA III

SGTLEGENDKILLEЯ

Fate Twister (Redux Edition)

Act II Chapter VI

"Varo Military Academy III"

H.D. 2:00pm March 11th, 2529

"D'rok… Close the door and come to the desk" Major Vekamee said to D'rok in a casual tone.

D'rok quickly complied and stood at attention before Major Vekamee. "What is it, sir?"

D'rok looked down onto his Major. He sat behind his desk with his helmet resting beside him. "We are starting the first short skirmish this afternoon…" The Major rubbed his eyes for a moment. "The higher ups were not all that pleased with the insignificant rival you have randomly created with Recruit Nalah. They wish to test both of your strengths in the skirmish today. It will be our common room versus common room 27 where he resides…" he sighed. "I know that you and your friend are the only saving graces in the barracks. The rest of you are low mediocre and lower." He spoke softly, trying to not have his voice travel.

"Well… what would you like me to do?" D'rok asked.

"Do what you think is necessary… I know somewhere up in your skull you will figure it out." The Major stood and looked out his window for a moment to look onto the field nestled between the barracks. "I want you to blow this out of the water… Do you understand?"

"Yes sir." D'rok smiled.

"They also wish to deny your kill team form until you have a second skirmish. They don't think you will stay consistent with your performance."

D'rok simply nodded.

"You will prove them wrong?"

"Of course sir.

"Good… then get too it. The call to armory will be in 30 minutes." Major Vekamee informed him.

"Yes sir!"

"You are dismissed, Tallaham."

D'rok turned and left the office. He went back to his bunk to take a few minutes to quietly think things over while K'an and Sig currently weren't present. He spent most of the little time he had to collect his thoughts. Of course he would have to somehow be wrapped up into the politics of the academy. He suspected that there was rivalries between the Majors of each individual barracks. Maybe some sort of quota or rank standing that their jobs depended on. Of course his quiet was ended soon as K'an and Sig returned to the barracks, K'an talking loudly as always. The two came and sat immediately next to D'rok.

"There is the big guy!" K'an exclaimed. "What you up too, D'rok?"

"Not much… just waiting around." D'rok sighed.

"Well… let's go to the shooting lanes or something."

"No thanks" D'rok sighed. "We have a skirmish in a few minutes."

"No one said anything to me…" K'an looked confused. "You been givin' head to the Major again, D'rok?"

D'rok just shook his head.

As if on cue, Major Vekamee exited the office at the other end of the barracks to instruct everyone to rush to the armory for load out retrieval.

"Well then… Let's go then!" K'an got up quickly and was already on the move.

"What's gotten into him?" Sig asked as D'rok and he started quickly after K'an.

"He is crazy." D'rok sighed. "Do you not know that?"

"Well… Yeah, but you are crazy too, right?"

D'rok chuckled. "I guess I am."

The three made their way to the armory only to join a line of recruits from both common rooms 27 and 34. This of course caused some silent tension to rise as if each of the recruits of either common room seemed to try to avoid any contact with each other. Slowly but surely, one by one the line for weapons shortened. Eventually two Phantoms lowered themselves nearby, two for each of the common rooms. The Majors of each barracks stood below the specific Phantom to identify which room would go on which.

D'rok, K'an, and Sig grabbed their load outs; A Type -31 Needle rifle with a Type – 25 Plasma Rifle, a Type – 50 Beam Rifle with a Plasma Rifle, and a Type – 51 Plasma Repeater paired with a Type – 33 Needler respectably. They went to leave the armory when they ran into Malik and Titas who seemingly were waiting outside for them for some reason. D'rok rolled his eyes slightly and sighed as he stepped passed them.

"Oh? Where are you going, Tallaham?" Titas tried to tease.

"I have no time for children like you." D'rok spoke without even the turn of his head. Sig followed D'rok closely and K'an took up the rear.

"Oh, well fine then! See you on the skirmish field then!" Titas sneered as if he just had struck gold.

"Hey _Tight ass!_" K'an turned and smiled to him and Matik. Titas grimaced at the deliberate mispronunciation of his name. "Be sure you give your pet a treat when he does well!" K'an spat with a deep laugh.

The trio left the flustered pair for their Phantom. Once onboard they found themselves a spot they could be together towards the right mid of the craft. It was not long before the Phantom became cramped with the full 45 recruits of the barracks who were now fully armed and shaken up. Soon Major Vekamee joined them and the Phantom rumbled as it lifted higher into the air. With several sessions of mild shaking the transport was rocketing of for some destination.

Major Vekamee stood from where he held too as the craft began motion. "Welcome to your second skirmish, Recruits!" he started as he walked to the center of the craft. "This will be different from your first engagement as this is a close range skirmish. Your time allowance is two hours… Two hours to smite the enemy barracks. The map is being provided to your data pads. I hope that you brought them with you." The Major sighed as if severely bothered at something. "Good luck, Recruits!" He finished quickly before returning to where he previously was.

D'rok grimaced curiously at Major Vekamee actions. He was holding back it seemed from something as if he knew they were to lose or something. Maybe this was D'rok being paranoid, but Major Vekamee never was one to hold information on anything, lectures and physical conditioning too. Maybe this was a test of some kind; if it was, he was going to act on it.

"Alright, Recruits!" D'rok started loudly over the rumbling of the Phantom's engines. "We are going up against the barracks with the current two highest individuals attending the academy." D'rok passed Major Vekamee who was silent to what D'rok was doing. "Despite whatever rumors you have heard, do not let those two intimidate you!" D'rok looked around to see all of the recruits watching closely for what he had to say. "What needs to happen is that you need to have some sort of leader; a chain of command if you will… I propose, with all of your permission of course, to nominate myself as a mock officer for this skirmish. What do you think?" D'rok looked around for any response; stopping for no other reason besides him not being that great with speeches.

The recruits all quietly gave some sort of response. Some simply nodded and others gave 'yes sirs' and such.

"Good… Here is what I want done." D'rok started loudly again. "I want three teams of 15 recruits. This is including three captains who I will assign to command each of the teams. Each captain will be logged into a comms channel with me so we can play ear and phone with each other. This will work… Trust me. D'rok looked around yet again. "Sig, K'an, and I will be the captains for the teams…" D'rok looked at his data pad for a second. "We have five minutes before touchdown. Separate yourselves into those groups, Recruits! Get to it!" D'rok yelled at them.

The recruits moved and began to loosely organize themselves into groups of 14 through the Phantom's troop bay. D'rok went over to K'an and Sig who were just holding onto the side trying to imagine what D'rok was doing. Everyone seemed to be having mild difficulties with standing as the transport swayed mid-flight from side to side softly. The only one who had no problem was D'rok thanks to his sea legs from working for Voro.

"So… what is the plan, boss?" K'an asked chuckling as he crossed his arms.

"Give me a second…" D'rok said as he pulled out his data pad to look at the map that had been recently sent to him.

"So you put us on the spot without knowing what to do?" K'an prodded.

"Shut up, K'an. We will make it work… Here" D'rok held up his data pad so the three of them could see it.

On the screen was a bird's eye view of a section of town. The map was broken down into a virtual grid of nine blocks much like a tick-tack-toe board. To the furthest north east, or the top right of the three north blocks, there was a mark behind a pair of small buildings of where the opposite team would land, which was in the furthest north east square; an open asphalt parking lot lay in the center; and to the northwest there was what looked to be some sort of small building or store.

The center row of blocks was where the most buildings were. In the eastern block there was an open courtyard or park with vegetation heavily scattered around; in the center there was a large restaurant with balconies on all sides except for the north side because of a connected apartment complex that was attached to the restaurant building. In the western block there was a food market with a large elevated walkway that opposed the balcony of the restaurant.

In the south blocks there was very little to even describe as most were just a field with a ramp and two stair cases to get to the town. The field itself was below the level of the town by being about 50 feet lower than the town's street level. On top of the rock face was a cement wall for whatever reason. Other than that, their landing point was in the south western portion of the field.

"What are we gunna do?" K'an asked after looking at the map for a moment."

D'rok inhaled to explain quickly "This is what we are going to do: K'an, I want you to take your group up and against that wall in the south eastern section. Swap recruits with Sig and I to get more of a ranged arsenal so you can watch over the western courtyard. Sig, I want you to get your group to get up onto that elevated walkway above the food market in the west. Once up there you watch closely downwards at the market for the enemy team. I will take my group and rush up straight into that connected apartment/restaurant in the center."

"This strategy will work how?" Sig asked, intrigued.

"Well, it is perfectly clear that the center buildings are the pivotal point to hold in this skirmish, and with you two watching both the west and east sides it will be impossible for the other team getting into the restaurant without tightening themselves into very close quarters. Which works for the recruits and me because we will be waiting hopefully and precise aim isn't quite necessary for those who still don't aim well…" D'rok smiled.

"Intelligent… I like this…" Sig admired.

"The point is to rush forward to grab the yardage we can… Titas and Matik will be without a doubt leading the other team. And knowing their attitudes about us, they will expect us to be unorganized and like a bunch of idiots with guns… This will throw them off…"

"Oh? Will I get another chance to play with the pet?" K'an smiled widely.

"Sure… You two know what I am saying?"

"Yup" K'an and Sig both agreed.

"We touch down soon, so connect to my headset and go to your squads. Let's make this happen!"

The two did so and left for their groups. They decided which of the three they wanted and then exchanged members so K'an had the most skilled range members of the barracks. Once decided, the two started getting set as they informed each of their squads of 15 of their roles and the map of the skirmish. D'rok went to his squad and quickly introduced himself to them before filling them in. As he finished, the alarm sounded to inform the recruits that they had 60 seconds before they arrived to the drop point.

"Which of you are the fastest sprinters?" D'rok asked his squad.

Three in the squad raised their hands timidly.

"Good… I want you three to stay with me when we touch down… the rest of you hurry as fast as you can behind us. We will clear the way." D'rok instructed and received nods in return. "Comms check!" D'rok spoke as he put his finger to his ear to wiggle the earpiece.

"All clear!" Sig answered.

"I'll check anything for you, there, hot stuff." K'an chuckled.

D'rok rolled his eyes at K'an and ignored it. "Alright… good." D'rok fumbled with his harness real quick, checking it. "Sig! Your squad is first on the ground. K'an, you're squad is last. As soon as you have everyone on the ground I want you to hustle yourselves to your positions. Keep a clear head and keep your eye out. Once you are where you need to be, let me know and await further instruction. Understood?" D'rok barked throughout the troop bay.

He was granted the 'yes sir's of the entire barracks.

The Phantom's speakers gave a 'ding' as the craft's gravity lift activated and the craft quickly lowered closer to the ground. The craft quickly leveled out smoothly to allow a safe and secure descent to the turf below. D'rok stood tall ordered all squads to ready weapons before ordering Sig to lead his squad out. The rest watched the leaving squad shuffle out of the Phantom at the ready. The moment the last of Sig's squad left, D'rok began leading his squad out. As D'rok was getting on the ground, Sig's squad was already rushing for the staircase that would lead them to the west center section of the skirmish field. D'rok waited a few short moments for the last of his recruits to touch down before barking the order to run.

From the drop point D'rok sprinted, making his way towards the center ramp that would lead up to the restaurant/ apartment complex. The speed at which he led was only nearly matched by the trio who had previously raised their hands on the Phantom. He eventually slowed down to match their pace slightly as they began up the incline of the ramp. After they had reached the top of the ramp, they continued sprinting across the road for the front doors of the restaurant.

"Recruits! Clear left and right!" D'rok barked as they crossed the street full speed.

"Sir?!" One of them behind D'rok huffed.

Without replying, D'rok pushed on full speed off the street up to the porch of the restaurant. He shoved his shoulder forward as he barreled straight through the wooden door of the restaurant. The frame of the door splintered as the closed door exploded open from its closed position. D'rok slowed to a halt and quickly raised his Needle Rifle to scan the room. As risky as a full blast into the room was, there was no possible way the opposite team had made it there before them. The recruits behind him announced that the left and the right halves of the room were free of life.

"Ok, move quickly. I want the building swept! Ten downstairs and four upstairs. You have thirty seconds!" D'rok told them as he took several steps forward to allow the rest of the recruits to flow into the building.

As he asked, the recruits quickly cleared the building of any opponents. They were a few seconds off, but due to the huffing and raspy breaths of the recruits, D'rok knew they were trying their best. He then positioned seven of his squad downstairs and upstairs in prime locations for defense from the North side. He joined the half upstairs to watch out of the windows for the other two squads.

"D'rok, this is Sig. We are in position!" Sig called out over the comm.

"Very good. Stay put and keep an eye out for the opposite team. Do not fire on them without my word unless you are fired on first." D'rok ordered.

"Yes sir."

"K'an, is your group in place yet?" D'rok asked easily with his ear piece. "K'an?" He asked again after a moment of waiting.

"Yes!" K'an panted in return. "Hold your fucking livestock, man!"

"Ok… Do the same as I told Sig. If you see the enemy inform me immediately." D'rok ordered.

"Yup! Guys! Set up yourselves behind the wall… Rest your gun on the top of it and be quiet. If I hear one peep out of you I will beat you back to your mother's house!" K'an ordered over the comms, forgetting to end his broadcast.

"K'an…" D'rok sighed.

"And when I get there I might even have my way with her- What!?" K'an stopped in the middle of his 'pep' talk.

"Turn your piece off…"

"Yeah, yeah… Prick…" A click of K'an's piece shutting off crackled through the comm.

D'rok lowered his finger from his ear piece and bunkered down to wait to see what Titas and Matik would do. Surprisingly they were left waiting for several minutes before hearing or seeing any enemy movement. D'rok coached his squad to stick tight and stay aware despite the quiet. After several long drawn out moments, the comm channel in D'rok's ear crackled.

"D'rok… This is Sig. There is a large group heading into the market between our positions." Sig informed him quietly.

"Good… How many?"

"25? 30 maybe? Titas is leading them…"

"Good…"

"Hey, D'rok… this is K'an." K'an interjected. "We got about 15 recruits in the eastern courtyard… they are heading towards us. I think they are trying to do like … a reach around pinch movement on you in the middle or whatever.

"What in the gods names is a 'reach around pinch movement!?'" Sig could be heard questioning in a whisper over the comms.

"Are we clear to engage?" K'an asked.

"Negative…" D'rok said as he looked through a window at the large group that had just entered the farmer market below. "Disregard my last… We will be busy over here. If they make a move towards us, peg them down. Understood?"

"Gotcha…" K'an clicked off.

"Sig… I want you too, on my command, have your squad fire down onto the group in the markets. Understood?"

"Yes sir."

D'rok turned to the nearest recruit next to him. "I want you to relay this message to the recruits below: Tell them to keep their main focus out to the west to the markets as our east is covered. Position themselves in the corner of window frames to soak up most of the fire. When the time comes, I want them to bust the windows out and give everything they can throw at the group. Alright?"

"Yes sir!" The recruit piped quietly.

"Be quiet." D'rok padded him away towards the stairs.

D'rok instructed his recruits upstairs the same and helped them into good positions before getting himself against a window frame. He raised his Needle rifle out of the glassed window at the group down below in the markets. The group continued on moving slowly around the mock vendor carts. They were spread wide into pairs to cover the most ground and to scout out the entire area as they swept the markets. Titas was seen in the center rear of the group and he didn't seem aware that his large group was walking between two groups. D'rok tightened the grip on his rifle and got ready for the jump. The opposing group finally came into the most open and widest portion of the markets.

"Sig! Now!" D'rok yelled over his comm piece.

D'rok snapped the barrel quickly through the window in front of him. The metal of the barrel shattered the glass easily with the level of force that D'rok had pushed behind it. As the glass shattered and fell to the floor, D'rok aimed the rifle and began to pop quickly paced shots at the opponent group. His shots were quickly followed by a huge volley from both Sig and his squad of recruits. The group was taken massively off guard and scattered for cover from the hail of projectiles. Several of the enemy recruits had been locked and fell over to the cobble road beneath them so quickly they hardly had time to react. The rest attempted to return fire as they backpedaled furiously to retreat. Due to their elevation and cover, it would be very difficult for the enemy recruits to get a successful shot off at Sig or D'rok's squad.

The rest of the enemy group, after losing about seven recruits, backed up enough to get a tad bit of cover from the fire. With the two sources of projectiles located, Titas was seen yelling at his recruits. The group then split three ways: one portion backed off towards the Northwest building to most likely get up to the walkway where Sig was and another quickly sprinted for the apartment connected to the restaurant. D'rok pulled back from the window and quickly made his way up to the stairs.

"Squad! We have incoming forces from the Northern half of the building! I want most of you waiting at all entrances to the restaurant. I also want five runners to book it over to Sig's location. They are going to need assistance! Now move it!" D'rok yelled as he ran down the stairs.

His recruits had already repositioned themselves to cover the doorways to the apartment. D'rok saw the runners off quickly and instructed some recruits just to spray towards Titas's forces to keep them down. They barely had left before the sound of a door being kicked in rang out from the apartments. D'rok turned his attention to the doorway at the bottom of the stairs as a volley of plasma bolts sailed through the door; the recruits that guarded the open doorway sunk into cover as the bolts flew through. D'rok leveled his rifle and sent several rounds through the doorway at an approaching recruit. His shields cracked easy as he had already taken fire and he fell frozen as D'rok put a needle square in the center of his face. After the recruit had fallen, he darted quickly around to the doorway. He took cover behind the recruit on the left side of the door.

"There are five left. Three on the left side, two on the right." D'rok said as he popped a fresh magazine into his needle rifle. "Let's take care of them quickly, ok?"

The two recruits on the right side of the door nodded.

"Ok… On three!" D'rok gave a quick countdown.

The recruits all turned their guns through the door, the closes ones propped themselves against the door frame while the other one and D'rok eased out behind them. The enemy recruits had all been in poor cover and quickly fell victim to the bolts and needles that D'rok threw at them. One had managed to send a few bolts back at D'rok's squad, hitting the front recruit on the left of the door. The hit recruit stumbled back only to be caught by D'rok, who carefully helped him to the wall nearby. The recruit's leg was now locked up but he was not down and out of the skirmish yet. D'rok patted the recruit's shoulder before ordering his recruits downstairs forward into the apartment to gain some ground around Titas.

D'rok hurried up the stairs and watched out the windows to see that the one segment of Titas's group had gone up around to the opposite end of the walkway that Sig was located. The enemy recruits threw a large volley of plasma bolts at Sig's group, taking them by surprise to the point that several of them had fallen in lock. Sig's radio cracked through with a loud grunt as he took a plasma bolt to the side of the head with no shields. As his group was cut nearly in half they somehow managed to hold the line with return fire and decently picked cover position.

"Hey!" D'rok yelled at the recruits upstairs both in the restaurant and apartment. "West side windows! Cover Sig's group!" D'rok ordered loud loudly, taking a positing at yet another window. "Up the line! Let's go, recruits!" D'rok leveled his needle rifle and began to pop swiftly placed shots.

As D'rok and the recruits upstairs quickly began to dispatch the enemies harassing Sig's group, his radio crackled from K'an's end.

"D'rok. Matik is trying to get on the move for your direction." K'an chuckled before a loud volley of multiple beam rifle shots sounded out over the comm "Scratch that… his ass isn't moving!" K'an laughed a bit louder before cutting out.

The enemies on the walkway were now all taken out, leaving only Titas with six recruits and Matik with his group who were pinned down now in the eastern courtyard by K'an's squad. Titas seemed to shift order and began to lead his group back into the furthest Northwestern building in retreat. D'rok's squad took two of the recruits who followed Titas into the building. D'rok, before moving his squad to the downstairs of the apartment, sent a runner to the remaining members of Sig's squad to tell them to move forward to the North exit of the walkway.

"K'an? Update me on Matik!" D'rok requested.

"We still have him down… we took a few of his followers out and now he is down to nine from 14." K'an explained.

"Good… keep it up!"

"Yup…" K'an paused for a moment. "So, how are you?"

"Sig is down… We are down a total of 10 recruits including him. Titas made a retreat into a corner… We are going to get him out in a minute."

"Ok. _Get too it!_" K'an mocked D'rok playfully.

D'rok rolled his eyes and turned back to his recruits. "One last thing, recruits! It looks like the enemy has backed themselves into the corner building of the field. It also appears that they are not watching the windows and doors… This means that they are snuggled in there in some corner of what have you with the hopes that we enter nice and single file like for them. Well take a guess, recruits…" D'rok snarled. "We are not going to do that!" He paused for effect. "We are going to now storm that building all at once. It is not large enough to have extensive room layouts so just put the pressure down and this will work out." D'rok paced for a moment. "Use close range weapons such as your plasma rifles or repeaters. If you don't have either then switch up. We move in 30 seconds."

D'rok moved to the window of the apartment and informed Sig's group of the plan. They too quickly got ready and waited for his command. After waiting the time he gave, D'rok barked out the order to rush the house. The recruits, who had already been jacked up on adrenaline and anticipation, snapped up and moved swiftly as a group. D'rok followed them behind to ensure they all were doing aright, which they were. There was no sense in him taking all the first hand glory.

The house was entered from the front and the southern side simultaneously by D'rok and Sig's recruits respectably. With the flow of bodies going straight into the house, they all met a conflict point in the back of the house. The resulting exchange of fire was very brief, maybe only two or three seconds. This was followed by an accumulative cheering war cry from D'rok and Sig's recruits as the outcome was clear: Titas and his group had fallen. After a quick body count, only two friendly recruits had been hit; one of them fully locked and the other had a locked up arm. D'rok quickly congratulated them before going to his comm.

"K'an! Titas is down. We are clear over here. What is your situation?" D'rok asked quickly.

"Oh! Fantastic! Matik is now down to only four recruits and boy does he seem pissed!" K'an gloated.

"Good… We will get on the move to get an angle on them, alright?"

"Wait on that… It looked like they are surrendering…" K'an stopped talking to D'rok to tell his squad to hold their fire. "Yeah… they are coming out of hiding hands up."

"Good… No issues?"

"None…Well, there is one…"

"K'an?" 

The sound of a beam rifle round being fired cracked off through the comms. This was followed by a following volley from his squad, which in turn followed by quite the hearty laughing session from K'an.

"…K'an…" D'rok sighed, knowing that K'an just took advantage of that situation.

"Clean flush! We are clear, boss!" K'an continued to laugh as he clicked off the comm piece.

D'rok smiled and shook his head as he turned back to the recruits. "We won, gentlemen! Good job! Now grab the down and locked and let us revert back to the drop off point!"

The group all soon returned to the Phantom. Once on board, Major Vekamee quickly defrosted those who were downed in the skirmish and came swiftly over to D'rok. The Major's steps were upbeat and he wore a slight smile that he seemed to try to hide as he got closer to D'rok.

"My gods, Tallaham! That was simply amazing!" Major Vekamee exclaimed. "That was one of the best skirmishes I have ever seen at this stage!" The Major praised.

"It was nothing… really." D'rok looked down mortified; he never really liked the direct spotlight like this.

"Maybe not for a battle seasoned Field Master… But as a task of a week one recruit?" He panted softly like some girl meeting a celebrity. "That is a mountainous achievement!"

D'rok gave a slight shrug. "Thank you sir… If I may; I ask that you not treat me any differently in light of the performance, please…" D'rok sighed.

"Yes… Sorry… Carry on recruit!" Major Vekamee stood taller in stance and moved on to the other recruits.

Soon the downed recruits were all free from the binding and they were left in lines to quietly gap and whisper excitedly about the skirmish they had just won. They had only completely just wasted the current highest rated common room of the whole academy without too much difficulty. It seemed like several of them couldn't believe the victory themselves. D'rok watched the floor as he tried to rest his mind with the low rumbling ambience of the Phantom engines. Even though he didn't look around at all of the recruits that he just had lead, he knew that most were, without a doubt, watching him nearly the entire trip.

Once the Phantom touched down, the recruits were given free time to return their weapons to the Armory and then to do whatever they so pleased. D'rok spent some time with K'an and Sig at the mess hall where it was surprisingly quiet. The only talking that the three did was of the skirmish; K'an was satisfied that he had shot Matik in the face with his beam rifle, and Sig felt like he had let D'rok down by getting out. After some kind squabbling between D'rok and K'an, the two enforced that Sig had done quite the job in helping them.

The three finished their food and separated from the food hall; K'an and Sig went back to the barracks and D'rok went for a casual walk around the academy. For the most part, the Academy was calm in comparison of what it usually was. There was some quiet sounds of aircraft in the distance, some small wildlife, and a Major yelling off in a distant field. D'rok ended up taking a break from his walk on a bench located on the outskirts of the main field where the leaderboard stood.

He looked up to check the board as he sat town with a sigh. The last skirmish was quite helpful to him and his group and the leaderboard showed this quite apparently. There was a tie in kills for the top spot; the first spot was D'rok with 36 kills in 2 games and the second was Titas with 36 in 4 games. Due to D'rok's much higher average, he edged over Titas on the board. The third place spot was taken by Matik with 20 kills in 4 games. And finally the fourth spot was a dead even tie between K'an and Sig, both having 18 kills in two games with the same averages to boot. D'rok gave a chuckle; he didn't quite remember killing that many recruits last game.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed someone approaching him. With a quick look, D'rok could see that it was a very angered Titas swiftly marching towards him. Titas threw his helmet on the ground and came up to D'rok and shoved him full force clear of the bench where he sat. He fell in the dirt and scrambled to his hooves before Titas could do anything else.

"What did I tell you, peasant!?" Titas hissed at D'rok.

"Do you honestly think I give a single ounce of shit for what you have to say?" D'rok shot back calmly, not letting Titas get under his skin.

"Do you know who I am?!" Titas yelled out.

"I don't really care…" D'rok shrugged.

"Oh my gods!" Titas sneered in an adrenalized fashion "When my father hears about this!"

"I don't care who he is either." D'rok, yet again, shrugged

Titas's eye twitched in anger. "You cheated that last name and you know it!"

D'rok rolled his eyes and turned away from Titas "I don't have time for this." He began to walk away.

"You- You son of a whore! Coward!" Titas screamed loudly to make as much of a scene as he could.

D'rok stopped and sighed heavily.

"That is what I thought! You cannot handle this all! Child!" Titas continued to spit insults.

D'rok turned around and with a growl, gripped Titas be the neck just under his jaws. He squeezed a decent amount and began to pull Titas back off his hooves. Titas gasped and struggled for breath as he frantically clutched and struggled against D'rok's powerful grip. D'rok dragged Titas for several feet before smacking him against a cement wall where he would hold him a foot from the ground.

"Let me tell you something, kid." D'rok spoke softly into the ear of the terrified Titas. "I have spent the last 12 years of my life fighting a lot of men that were once twice of what you are… Do you know what their tough acts and words got them?"

Titas shook his already shaking head to respond to D'rok as he continued to try to breath against D'rok's grip.

"Absolutely nothing…" D'rok growled. "I killed each and every one of them individually in ways you can only dream of, youth…"

Titas continued to struggle, slowing slightly at his words.

"I _am _more experienced than you… Just remember this when you think about messing with me and my common room next time… Understood?"

Titas nodded furiously.

D'rok dropped the kid and walked away from him harshly, leaving Titas to cough violently as he clutched his throat.


End file.
